Author's pov:

For a moment, Devendra could not speak.

Devendra looked at his elder brother, confusion flickering across his usual composed face. Marriage had never been something he thought about his life her always been simple responsibility, discipline, respect for his brother, service to him and the village.

Devendra stood frozen, the weight of his brother's command heavy on his shoulders. He had always been the quiet observer, the one who preferred to remain in the shadows, but now the spotlight was on him, and he felt the eyes of the village burning into his skin. Marrying a widow? It was a scandalous thought, one that could lead to whispers and judgments that could haunt him and his family. Yet, as he glanced at Meera, her form shrouded in white, something stirred within him—a sense of protectiveness he had never anticipated.

Love... Companionship... A wife...

Those things had never truly existed in his plans.

Vikas notice the hesitation and his younger brother's eyes. His voice remained calm, but there was seriousness behind it.

Devendra's gaze drifted towards the girls standing alone and white.

Even from a distance, he could see how still she stood- like someone who had already accepted whatever faith would be handed to her.

A long veil hid her face completely. But somehow he could still sense the loneliness surrounding her.

He took a slow breath.

He never refused his brother, in his life.

"As you say, bhaiya."

Vikas studied his face for a second making sure they was no resentment in his voice. Devendra looked calm again- the same composed man he had always been.

As he lifted his gaze once more, his eyes instinctively returned to Meera.

She had not moved.

Her fate was still being decided by everyone except herself.

Vikas straightened and turned towards the crowd gathered beneath the banyan tree.

The murmuring villages immediately felt silent waiting for the sarpanch to speak.

Vikas's voice rang clear and firm.

" If the only problem you all have with this girl...is that she is a widow, "ge said slowly, " Then that would no longer exist. "

The villagers exchanged puzzled looks.

Before anyone anyone ask what he meant, Vikas continued.

"My brother, Devendra...will marry her."

For a moment-

Absolute silence fell over the entire panchayat.

The crowd began to murmur, their voices growing louder, filled with disbelief and outrage. “This is madness!” shouted one man, his face red with indignation. “You cannot marry a widow, Devendra! It will bring shame to your family!”

Another voice chimed in, “She is cursed! You would tie yourself to a woman who has brought nothing but misfortune?”

But Devendra was unmoved. He took a step forward, his heart pounding, emboldened by an unfamiliar resolve. “What if we were to change the narrative?” he said, his voice steadier than he felt. “What if she could bring honor instead of shame? What if we could redefine what it means to be a widow in this village?”

The crowd fell silent again, caught off guard by his words. Vikas watched his brother with a mixture of pride and concern. He had always known Devendra had a voice, but this moment was different—it was a call to courage.

“She has suffered enough,” Devendra continued, his gaze unwavering. “She deserves the chance to live, to find happiness beyond her sorrow. Marrying her would not be an act of shame; it would be an act of compassion. It would show the village that our traditions do not have to bind us, that we can create our own paths.”

No one dared to answer, to argue.

When Vikas made a decision, it was final.

No one one can challenge him.

Slowly, the murmurs fade.

The matter had been decided.

Meera's pov:

I knew why panchayat had gathered today.

I knew what decision was waiting for me.

Either they would through me out of the entire village.

After husband died, people expected me to cry endlessly, to mourn as if the world had ended.

But the truth was...my grief was not what they imagined.

Perhaps, I am the first woman in the world like this.

Because the man who was supposed to be my husband had never treated me with love.

His hands had only know how to hurt me.

Every small mistake, every word he dislike...ended with his anger and his blows.

And after his death, his family blamed me.

They said I was reason their son died.

Day After day, there accusation turned into cruelty.

Their cruelty turns into torture.

And today...they have brought me here.

When the villagers started talking about Sati,my heart stopped for a moment.

But strangely...

Part of me even thought but it's burning would be easier than living like this.

Then suddenly...

I heard a voice.

Strong.

Firm.

Firm.

"No Sati will happen in this village"

My breath caught.

"At least think about the girls standing there. "

Tears filled my eyes instantly.

For the first time Since all this began...

Someone had spoken for me.

Someone had store against everyone.

But because of the long veil covering my face I could not see who it was.

Someone argued again.

The another calm voice spoke.

"So this is the problem? you are all trouble because she is a widow? "

My heart began to pound.

I did not understand what was going now.

Everything fail distant like I was listening to someone else's fare being discussed.

And then suddenly-

"Devendra will marry her"

For a second, the world around me seems to stop.

My mind's struggle to understand the words.

Marry?

Marriage?

The very thing I feared the most.

My fingers Tighten in the folds of my saree.

My heart raise wildly inside my chest.

Because the thought of marriage was the thought of return into the same prison I had barely escaped.

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