Chapter 5: Caged Dreams

After marriage, Arjun insisted I quit my job—claiming I was too frail, fussing over my diet, sending updates to Dadi about my health. Our Delhi bungalow felt more like a cage than a home.

My company in Mumbai was sinking, salaries delayed for months. HR’s WhatsApp forwards—"Salary aaj nahi, kal zaroor"—became a running joke among my colleagues. When I finally got my back pay, I resigned, celebrating with pav bhaji at Juhu beach.

But after that, every job application vanished into the void. The rejection emails stacked up, the silence from HRs grew deafening.

Arjun blocked me at every turn, insisting, “Ghar sambhalna bhi toh kaam hai, Meera.” His sweet words felt suffocating.

“Arrey Arjun, you know I never wanted to be a housewife. I want my own career.”

He dismissed me, “If you have your own career, it’s just about making money, isn’t it? The Malhotra family already has more than enough.”

He made chasing my dreams feel like a crime. But I kept trying—tweaking my CV, prepping for interviews, sending out over a hundred applications.

Nothing came. My phone buzzed only with promotional SMSes and Flipkart sales.

“Meera, don’t waste your time. You won’t find a job in Delhi.” He said it over breakfast, sipping coffee as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

The confidence in his tone gave me a sinking feeling. My instincts screamed that something was off, but I told myself it was just bad luck.