"Not marwari...non-vegetarian...against our community... what were you thinking, Aashi?" My uncle, father's younger brother bellowed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Is this what we have taught you? Is this what your parents have taught you?"

I bit my lip at the direct dig at my parents, willing myself to not talk back. No, that would simply lead to another disaster. I had already taken the family by storm. Apparently, the news had shocked my extended family to such an extend that my bua, who lived in Bangalore with her family flew all the way to Mumbai with her husband and kids only to bare witness to my folly. My mother was currently in the kitchen, probably muttering all kinds of curses that she knew for her sister-in-law's husband who had deemed it appropriate to impose their stay over the eldest son of his wife's family for a week. I couldn't blame her. My fufa was no awesome company. And a rather demanding guest.

"She was taught better," my father said and stared levelly at me. I squirmed under his gaze. There was something about the way your parents stared down at you that made you feel like a toddler all over again. I knew what this was all about. It was simply to break me.

"There is nothing worse than disobedient kids who forget their parents' teachings," my bua's husband spoke up, rubbing salt to the wounds. I clenched my fists behind my back and continued to look down at my feet, fearing the things I would do if I looked up at them. I noticed Abeer shuffle his feet uncomfortably beside me, clearly at ill-ease under the scrutiny of my entire family.

He wasn't offered a seat to sit down. I had growled in anger at the blatant disrespect my family had shown him. But Abeer hadn't minded and graciously took his place beside me. He was the calming balm to my boiling rage.

"No manners at all! Look at her! Had an affair in Delhi and still no shame! Bhabhi must be so disappointed in you, do you know that? Only daughter...no son, you were her everything. And now, why did you do it?" My chachi took a subtle dig at my mother, making me look up from my feet and glare at her.

"I'm still her everything. And I'm enough. She knows that. Papa knows that. This changes nothing," I bit out, struggling to keep my anger in check. My aunt looked affronted at the way I had spoken to her, but she held her tongue, probably intimidated at the growing anger in my eyes.

"She's always had a temper, this girl. Since childhood. Never let Adi and Riya choose the game back then," my fufa muttered when he saw my rage-filled eyes. God was it difficult to not lash out at them.

I took a deep breath when my mother finally emerged from the kitchen with a tray full of snacks in her hands, my cousins helping her to set the tea table.

"Okay, I get it that everyone is angry at me about my choice. I...I understand. But the bottom line is that, I love him. And I want to marry him. He's not a bad guy, he's hardworking, he doesn't have any vices, he respects me, his family is a reputable one, and above all, he loves me as I am. This is the only thing I want to say to you all. I don't want to play tricks or talk in circles. This is the truth, fair and square," I said and waited as the room descended into silence.

"Love?" my chacha scoffed, mocking me. "What is that? We never knew that thing at our age. This generation only has these heightened bars of expectations about everything. And this boy you're so mad about that you're ready to go against your own family? He will leave you as soon as he's through you. These Bengalis are all the same. You're innocent, beta, you don't know how this world works," he said, his tone gentler than before.

I nearly rolled my eyes. Really, didn't no one know me? But I tensed at my uncle's words and glanced at Abeer beside me to see that he had gone very still, breathing deeply. But he didn't say a word.

And then suddenly my chachi spoke up, and it took all my efforts to not go strangle her. "You aren't pregnant, are you?" She asked, her eyes wide with panic. Abeer choked on his saliva beside me as I slapped my head in exasperation. I had gone bright red at the accusation as I clenched and unclenched my fist, trying to keep my temper in check.

"God, NO!"

"No no, she isn't!"

My mother and I both screamed at the same time. I thought back to the last day when she had accused me of the same thing.

"Your chacha is right, Aashi. Listen to him. This Bengali guy will turn out to be good for nothing, I'm telling you. And this 'love'...this will evaporate once you get to the day to day life. Marry a solid Marwadi guy from our community, and live a content life. Like your bua here, and your chachi, and your own mother for that matter," my chachi and mother nodded at my fufa's words mechanically. My bua stayed silent, as she always was.

"Oh, I know how those have turned out to be," I commented sarcastically, lifting my eyebrows for added measure.

My uncle bristled. "It is this guy talking, isn't it? What have you done to our simple girl, huh?" He glared at Abeer angrily.

"Okay this is enough! Abeer has said nothing. He's not said a word since this so called meeting began, for God's sake! This is me talking. I think this. No one says another word against him. No one says another word against Bengalis. And stop this tradition of controlling your kids. Grandfather controlled you all, have you forgotten how you all hated that? You are doing the same to us, your children! Have you all learnt nothing?"

There was a deadly silence in the room. No one dared to say anything. Someone had spoken back to the elders in our family. It was inexcusable. Affairs could be tolerated, but no one questioned the elders. That was blasphemy.

My heart beat rapidly against my chest as I waited for them to speak. I hadn't exactly planned on pushing them to this extent, but they had spoken such bad things about Abeer that I couldn't hold it in.

"You have no right to talk to us like this," my bua's husband spoke up, his voice dangerously low. "This boy is bad influence on you. You leave us with no choice. You leave this boy, and if you don't, then you are longer a part of this family." My chacha and chachi nodded, and my parents followed, albeit slowly.

My stomach plummeted. God my loud mouth and my incapability to keep it shut.

And then, amidst the dreadful silence, I heard my eldest brother Adi cough a little, and speak in an uncommonly cheerful voice. "Well, since we're on the subject of disowning, and we have discussed in all the ways Aashi has sullied the family name, I don't think there is scope for more drama following this announcement." He cleared his throat and straightened in his chair. "I have an announcement to make. I told you Simone is my German teacher. She isn't. I met her when I went to Germany to work for five months. We are dating and we want to get married. That is why I keep rejecting girls. And oh, for the record, she is actually pregnant," he smiled with pride as he spoke the last line, but the smile quickly dissipated when all the eyes in the room fell on him. He adjusted his glasses under the burning gazes of the elders. The focus had shifted.

"German! Pregnant! Oh lord, oh lord!" My chachi touched her head in shock, always into theatrics. My fufa, Adi's father had had a heart attack eight months back, I was worried with the look he had on his face that he might suffer another. Please let there be no repeat of it.

"Weren't there any good Indian girls left? Go all the way and bring a German! Oh lord!" My chachi screamed in a ghost like voice.

"I am Indian, so am I accepted then?" Abeer shifted closer to me and whispered in my ear. I glared at him. Not the time for levity, Abeer.

"Me too," Riya, his sibling spoke timidly from behind her older brother.

"What?" my mother asked, too dazed to manage anything else.

"I have a boyfriend too. I met him on a dating app."

My eyes widened. Dating app! Never had I thought that the word would be said in our family meeting, ever.

"Riya, you...you as well? How could you both do this? And on an app! App?" my fufa said, his eyes wide, so wide that I wondered why hadn't they fallen out already. I kept looking at my bua, their mother who was silent throughout. My temper flared. Why was she always silent at the crucial times? This concerned her own children, how could she remain silent on that?

"Mumma," my eighteen-year-old brother Aman spoke up, his voice hesitant.

"You don't speak between adults," his mother, my chachi, berated him sharply, a certain fear lacing her voice.

Aman did not listen to her, he was too eager to share his story. "Our family friends, the Agarwals? I am currently dating their daughter, Akansha." His parents had a look of wonder and surprise on their respective faces as they struggled to digest the news.

I really would have asked why he had specified "currently", but now wasn't exactly an appropriate time.

"Since everyone is telling," my nine-year-old sister Sakshi started saying and we all looked at her, horror written on every face in the room. Too much had unfolded that day, just too much. I shook my head, internally wishing Sakshi won't speak anything else. But she did.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend," she giggled childishly as everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but the shock returned when she added. " - yet. But I like a boy in my class. He doesn't talk to me but I know that I want to marry him because his mom cooks really well," innocent Sakshi said happily. I would have laughed if she hadn't told us this in the somber environment. She didn't stop at that though, she continued, unaware of the burning gazes of the elders. "He will look handsome like this person, when he grows up," she said, pointing at Abeer. My heart sang at her words. Abeer smiled warmly at that while the others widened their eyes in awe and anger.

"And I will look like..." She thought for a moment, her finger on her chin. "Well, I will definitely look cuter than Aashi didi," she finished and giggled as I glared at her. The nerve of that child!

When I thought this was it, this was everything our family had to offer, my bua, who had been silent all along let out a small whimper. "Aman and Sakshi, go inside," she ordered in a tone we had never seen her use. Her two brothers looked at her, surprise written all over their faces. She had always been the sweet, submissive woman of the family, which was part reason why she irked me so. My mother and chachi were both spitfires (though my aunt was no match for my mother), their sister-in-law was the only soft-spoken woman in the family. But what she said next made me question if her life had been a lie all along.

"I want a divorce," she said quietly, looking down to her hands.

My fufa rolled his eyes and scoffed incredulously. "Do you know what that even means?"

And then she burst out crying. "See? It's this. Everything I have said. Everything I have done. No one believes me. You consider me a small child, all of you do. No one values my opinions in this family. Nor in my husband's family. Not one human has taken me seriously in this world. I am tired of being this person everyone takes for granted," she sobbed, the tiredness, the weight of all these years reflecting in her eyes.

"Where will you go, huh?" My fufa asked, eyebrows raised arrogantly. Anger coursed through my veins witnessing his arrogant tone.

"We won't accept this," my chacha said nonchalantly, leaning forward and glaring at his elder sister. My eyes widened at how the younger brother was treating his own sister. He was dismissing her, indifferent about her feelings. Was he blind to the pain in her eyes?

"Papa and the two of you," she said, pointing to her two brothers. "The three of you thought that marrying me off would fulfill your responsibility towards me, and I would be off your hands. But perhaps mother knew better. She kept the apartment she got when her brother died childless. She gave it to me. I guess somewhere, along the years she had wanted to go there herself and live her own life, and make her own life. This was the token of freedom she had offered me herself. I had wanted to go there so many times but I couldn't gather courage. But thanks to this day," she said, glancing at me and smiling faintly. "All the hidden things of this family have come out. I feel lighter than I have. If you want to marry Abeer, you have my blessings," my parents hissed as soon as the words left her mouth.

"Rubbish," my fufa said furiously and got up.

"Wait," my father said as his sister moved to leave. "Jiji, why...why are you doing this?" He asked pleadingly, a frown on his face.

She sighed and rubbed her temple. "I am... unhappy. Extremely. There have been happy days," she chuckled and looked at my father. "You can't have children and be unhappy all the time. I thought they would be my source of happiness in this life. That they were enough. I didn't need anything else. But," she shook her head, her eyes wistful. "But then they grew up, and went away on their own paths. As they should. And I was...miserable. I guess this is why you have a partner. That when your children grow up and go on their ways, the partner would be there, your anchor for life. But that wasn't the case with me."

"I gift you so much gold and so many sarees, isn't that enough?" Her husband questioned, his movements frantic.

"Do you see this? It has been so many years but this man doesn't understand that my heart isn't into materialistic things," she said and turned to her husband. "And don't you dare say that, the truth is that you give all that to show off in the society. You don't care for my happiness. You never have," she thundered, her eyes blazing.

"You have been together for so many years, you have you children..." my father implored from behind.

"They are quite grown up. They can choose for their own. They already have chosen, haven't they?" She let out a small laugh and looked at children, but they both looked too shocked and dazed to say anything. She ignored them and continued, "I am going to try modelling. That's one thing I have always wanted to do, but of course, that wasn't acceptable in this family."

"That is for young girls. Who will let you model?" My chacha mocked her.

"They need people to play elder roles in the advertisements as well. Don't worry. I have been acting everyday of my life, living the life of someone I wasn't for decades now, it won't be that difficult," she said curtly, looking down on her younger brother. That shut him up.

I looked at my aunt, shocked and awed at how everything had turned out. Forget the adults, even we kids hadn't taken her seriously until now. We always regarded her as someone who cooked well, gave good gifts and wore beautiful sarees. That's it! But she wasn't that, she was her own person. With dreams and aspirations and blood and tears.

"Why are we talking about internal matters in front of outsiders?" My mother said hurriedly, worry written on her face, trying to diffuse the situation at hand. This was supposed to be the day her daughter was shown the right path. But this had spiraled out of everyone's control.

But I couldn't help myself. "Abeer isn't a outsider."

"Wonderful! Love affairs, divorce, what else does this family have to see? Good lord! Why didn't I die before seeing this day?" my chacha started, hand on his forehead. I controlled the urge to roll my eyes.

"And who are you to say that? Stop these double standards, Shashank. Have you forgotten how crazy you were about our neighbour, Hemal? It was papa who refused the match and you had to marry Hemlata," she said, motioning to his wife. "Did you burn the poems you wrote for her?" My bua batted her eyelashes, the picture of innocence. Her younger brother turned bright pink at the his sister's words and looked down, unable to say anything. He seemed to be regretting opening his mouth. Chachi glared daggers at bua first, then chacha and then at all of us, perhaps wondering what mental asylum of a family she had married into.

Nobody spoke for a while. The elders avoided eye contact with each other, staring at everything but each other.

I kept staring at everyone, my eyes shifting from one character to another. I had spent hours thinking that I would turn out to be the black sheep of this family. But God, it had been a strange day. The eldest of us all, Adi, had a German girlfriend, and a child underway. All my cousins had partners, well, except Sakshi. My aunt, his mother had demanded a divorce in front of everybody!

Slowly, everyone got up and murmured half-hearted farewells as they went their separate ways. Abeer and I looked at each other, he signaled to his watch, indicating that we were getting late for the flight. I nodded and looked at my parents, hoping my parents would stop me and talk to us. But they were both staring down at the floor, lost in their own thoughts. I murmured my 'goodbyes', to which they nodded absentmindedly and the two of us left their house.

"What a day! I haven't seen anything like this before," Abeer drew in a deep breath when we sat in the cab to take us to the airport for our flight back to Delhi. It was important for us to return today since we both had to join work tomorrow. I had taken too many leaves already, I couldn't take anymore.

I sighed. "Neither have I. Thanks to you my family spoke something else than small talk and gossips of the world. They spoke their hearts," I said and looked at him, smiling. I took his hand in mine as we sped through the traffic-jammed roads of Mumbai, back to Delhi.

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