(Read the first part here: I Became A Widow On The First Morning Of My Marriage)

I was sitting hopelessly on the back seat of the Sumo. My eyes were wet and I could see droplets of my tears on my mehendi clad hands. "Mehendi hai lagne wali" can you imagine, at such a tragic moment, this was the song that was playing in my ears.

I was thinking of this as a bad dream, a nightmare, like it happens in our Hindi serials; heroine sees a bad dream of being taken far away from the hero, then the hero wakes her up from her sleep and they hug each other and the fairytale continues.

Similarly, I thought my husband would wake me up, take my mehendi clad palms in his hand, search for his name in the design and everything would be fine again.

Our vehicle stopped and my imaginary world came to a halt too. We had reached the railway station. The station master came out and a few male members went aside with him. I stood with other female members of his and my family. Since that phone call in the morning, I had heard a lot of whispers that weren't pleasant, people were calling me with bad names, saying that I brought bad luck to their house. But I behaved like I was a deaf cow and silently hoped for a miracle to happen.

I hoped that my husband would come running to me and we'd sit on a white horse and go far away. 15 minutes had passed and neither a horse nor a magician appeared. I felt weak and yes, I am not ashamed to say, I felt very hungry as well. I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday.

I could hear loud wailing sounds, half of the ladies ran in the direction of the howls. I sat down in the dirt as I had no strength left to stand this kind of torture anymore. After sometime few men and women walked towards me. Now the scene was changed, they looked worried for me and were trying to be caring towards me. "Damn it! Tell me what's the matter? Reveal the suspense! I am sick and tired." I wanted to scream and tell them exactly this. But I was rushed back to the sumo without a word from them and we were on our way back home.

Again, there were whispers and hush hush phone calls. I could hear that there were two bodies found. Enough of keeping quiet, I thought and gathered some courage to ask his aunt who sat on the seat opposite me, "Is all well? How's he?"

Apparently, she had just been waiting for me to ask her this question, she jumped from her seat to mine, hugged me and cried loudly, "He has left us. He is no more! You are a widow!"

The news had spread like wild fire, the road towards my in-laws' house were flooded with vehicles. People, people and more of them everywhere. We somehow managed to enter the house. My mother and sister were there too. Everyone was crying, my tears had dried up now. I was sad but there were no tears left.

Three hours later, two bodies arrived in the ambulance. Till then we knew nothing, no one told us anything. One body was of Pradeep's; my one day old husband and the other was of his girlfriend.

Their story went like this — they both were madly in love. They had requested their family members to get them married but in vain. Now she was three months pregnant and he had to get married to me. So she went to the railway station with the intention of committing suicide, she made her last call to him. He ran to stop her. They met the station master who saw them sitting on the bench for a long time, he thought they were waiting for the train.

Later they must have decided to end their lives together, without thinking of how many lives they were going to murder. It was a heart wrenching story but what about me? What was my fault? Why were my dreams, joys, my happiness aborted even before I could know what was happening. Whom do I blame? Him? Her? Them? Whom?

(Read #Part3, go here: I Lost My Husband After The First Night Of Our Marriage For A Reason I'll Never Forget)

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