Chapter 4: A Night in Mausi’s World

At Mausi's house, she prepared a separate room for me. On the nightstand was a pile of snacks and the phone she bought me.

The soft yellow lamp bathed the room in a gentle glow. There were Lays packets, a box of Haldiram’s soan papdi, and even a tiny diya flickering beside the phone. Mausi’s touch was everywhere—thoughtful, loving, and a little mischievous.

That phone was Mausi's reward when I got into the city's top college three years ago. She helped me register for WhatsApp, so I wouldn't be the odd one out among my classmates—the only one without WhatsApp or Instagram, like I was in school.

I remembered how she’d winked and whispered, “Beta, the world is changing, and so should you!” as she set up my phone. Her laughter had filled the room, making the moment special.

Mausi noticed my mood and pulled me down to sit beside her:

She threw a soft pillow at me playfully, then wrapped her arm around my shoulder. Her hands always smelled faintly of sandalwood and haldi.

"Ananya, tomorrow I'll take you and Sneha to see a movie. Then, on the fourth day after Diwali, it's your birthday. I'll treat you to Barbeque Nation, okay?"

She tapped my nose with her finger, her enthusiasm infectious. Sneha clapped, bouncing on the bed, already dreaming of the chocolate fountain at Barbeque Nation.

To celebrate my birthday at Barbeque Nation?

The thought sent a thrill through me. I pictured the sizzlers arriving at the table, the bustle and laughter, the cheerful staff singing birthday wishes.

That had always been my dream.

It was the one thing I’d secretly wished for every birthday, but never dared to ask Mummy.

"Mausi, can I invite two friends?"

I hesitated, my voice soft, afraid the answer might be no.

"Of course."

She grinned, her eyes sparkling. “Invite the whole college if you want!”

With Mausi's promise, I was so happy I forgot all my unhappiness. I finally had something to look forward to for my 18th birthday, but I was still worried: "Mausi, will Mummy agree?"

The old fear crept in. I bit my lip, dreading that Mummy’s word would once again ruin everything.

"She has to agree—it's your 18th birthday..." Mausi paused, looking at me with pain in her eyes. "I transferred 500 rupees to your PayTM. Mummy doesn't know. If you want to top up your game, that's fine—just don't stay up all night, okay?"

She brushed my hair back, her affection a balm for all my hurts. Mausi always seemed to know exactly what I needed, even before I did.

Mausi closed the door for me. I held my phone and curled up in the warm blankets, not wanting to fall asleep at all.

I scrolled through my messages, basking in the rare quiet. The softness of the blanket, the hum of Mausi chatting with Sneha in the living room, and the muted sparkle of the fireworks outside soothed my nerves. Tonight, the world felt safe.

Tonight's freedom was so precious. I was filled with gratitude towards Mausi.

I sent her a silent thank you, promising myself I would never forget her kindness, no matter what happened tomorrow.

Though she's Mummy's real sister, their personalities couldn't be more different. Mausi is capable, fun-loving, and independent. Even after marriage and having a child, she travels solo every year. She lives brightly and openly. Mummy can't control her—and is even a little afraid of her.

I admired Mausi’s confidence, her easy laughter. She was the only adult I knew who didn’t worry about what ‘log kya kahenge’. She lived for herself, and it showed.

Because every time Mausi sees Mummy, she advises her not to be a housewife just for my sake, but to find something for herself. Her clear, logical arguments even make someone as stubborn as Mummy waver. That's why Mummy doesn't want me going to Mausi's—she's afraid Mausi will "lead me astray."

I smiled to myself. If ‘astray’ meant being happy and independent, I wanted to be led astray every day.

But I think Mausi is right: "You study for yourself. If Ananya understands that, you don't need to worry about her 24/7. If she doesn't, even if you worry 25 hours a day, it's useless."

Her words rang in my ears, comforting and empowering. She trusted me to take charge of my life, not just follow instructions.

I've understood the meaning of studying since I was young and genuinely like learning, so from primary school to my senior year, every winter and summer vacation, every weekend, I obediently attended one tuition class after another.

I remembered the chilly mornings cycling to tuition, the endless notebooks, the smell of ink and new books—a routine I accepted because I truly wanted to learn.

The result of working hard is that my grades are excellent, always among the top. But Mummy is never satisfied.

I always felt her expectations hovering over me like a shadow, never allowing me to rest or bask in my own achievements.

If I do well, she finds the mistakes I shouldn't have made and gives me a good shouting over and over for being careless.

Her scolding would echo through the house, bouncing off the tiled floors and closed doors. Each word stuck to me like a stubborn stain.

If I don't do well, like this time, she starts nagging from the day she gets the marks, and after countless repetitions, she publicly shames me on Diwali.

The cycle was endless—praise, if it ever came, was fleeting; disappointment, ever-present.

She habitually belittles me to the ground to prove her control over me.

I wondered if she even noticed how her words chipped away at my confidence, leaving me more anxious and alone each time.

She thinks I should look up to her, obey her, and thank her, because she gives me endless motherly love: "Ananya, in this world, no one loves you more than Mummy."

Her voice would grow soft and proud, as if love justified everything else—the shouting, the pressure, the lack of trust.

Yes, but at the same time, no one suffocates me more than Mummy. Her need to control me, both physically and mentally, is everywhere.

It seeped into my every waking moment, dictating what I wore, who I spoke to, how I felt. Even my dreams belonged to her, not me.

If Mausi hadn't appeared like a saviour to pull me out in time, I think tonight I would have been strangled by this suffocating motherly love.

I hugged my pillow tightly, finally letting myself hope that things could change, that Mausi’s world might one day become mine too.