| Mitra Samal | October 2026 | Short Story |
Anita stuffed the georgette salwar suit into her laptop bag. It would look odd to wear a heavily embroidered suit on a Friday, especially when casuals were allowed. She could always change before leaving. There probably wouldn’t be enough time for lunch, so she also put a packet of banana cakes and an apple. The microwave beeped. She took out the sandwich she had made for breakfast and began munching on it, her coffee rested on top of the Bhubaneswar Times. It was Abhik bhai’s wedding day. She had only agreed to help her brother because she owed him for supporting her during her divorce. She let out a sigh.
She had told her family that her husband was a drunkard and always disregarded her, but all of that was not true. The truth was, she was still hooked on her ex-boyfriend, Rohit, even after getting married. She would stalk him and his girlfriend on social media.
To be honest, it had mostly been one-sided for Anita. Rohit was from her office, and she was the one who dared to ask him out. He was everything she had ever wanted. He had agreed hesitantly, and after a few dates over a couple of months, he called it off. “I have met someone,” he said.
She stalked Rohit even now. It had become a kind of addiction—something she couldn’t let go of. The thoughts came in spirals. His girlfriend, who called herself an influencer despite having only two thousand followers on the social media app, created makeup reels. Rohit often appeared in them, applying makeup to her face, and she would tag the videos as couple goals. They both looked sleek—almost too pretty to be real—their appearances enhanced many times over by filters and cosmetics.
Two texts popped up on her phone. They were from her brother.
‘Cuttack Court at 4 p.m., ok?’
‘The witness must not be late.’
She typed back, ‘Ok, will be there.’ ‘Thanks,’ came the prompt reply from her brother. She kept her phone aside after checking Rohit’s and his girlfriend’s profiles on the app once. He hadn’t posted anything new, and his girlfriend had put up a selfie with the caption, just out of bed look. How fake!
She looked for her car keys—her Alto, compact enough to drive in the growing traffic of Bhubaneswar. It took her a minute to remember that she had left them on top of the refrigerator the night before. They were still there. She put them in her jeans pocket. The benefit of living alone: nobody meddles with your things or your business.
It was a pain to see that the uncle from the opposite apartment had again parked his SUV in front of her car. “Oh no, not again!” She hit her right palm on her head. He would always say it was easier that way for him, moreover, it was he who mostly left for the office early, but today she had to reach the office by 9 a.m.
An IT job can be hectic; she had been slogging for a week to make up for the half-day leave she was planning to take. Only if she reached before everyone else today would she be okay leaving before them. Moreover, uncle would be retiring in a year or two, and with all that money, why doesn’t he keep a chauffeur? It was hard for her to understand.
It was already a quarter past eight. She hurried to uncle’s apartment, rang the bell, and started counting her breath. The door opened after a full thirty inhales and exhales. Uncle emerged in his pyjamas with a towel around his neck.
“Oh, do you have to leave early today? Give me five minutes. I will change and come,” he said.
“That isn’t required at all. Just hand me the keys. I will do it.” Anita tried her best to look convincing, stretching her hand to get the keys from uncle.
Uncle stood there for a moment, even his thick-rimmed spectacles couldn’t hide his doubtful eyes. “Are you sure? It is an SUV.” He spoke.
“Come on uncle, hand me the keys. I have parked my colleagues’ SUVs many times at the office!” She hadn’t, but she knew it wouldn’t be difficult for an experienced driver like her. If only people wouldn’t judge women drivers! She stretched her arm further and repeated, “Uncle, come on, please. I am getting late!”
“Okay, okay!” Uncle said and handed her the keys lying on the tea table.
“Thank you so much! Be back in no time.” She walked to the parking spot while uncle watched from his window, still quite doubtful.
It wasn’t easy, but she managed well. Just as she parked, however, the front left tyre hit her neighbour’s flowerpot, and it leisurely toppled over. She ran out, locked the car, set the pot upright, handed the keys to uncle, and left, waving to him a good day before he could utter anything.
***
There was congestion on the road even before 9 a.m. and Anita couldn’t drive fast. On top of that, it started raining as though the heavens were trying to punish her. No matter what Cooper said to Murphy in the movie Interstellar–only bad things happen–that was Murphy’s law for her. She silently started cursing her brother for not getting married on the weekend.
“Why is the marriage going to be held in Cuttack?” She had asked Abhik.
He explained that his girlfriend, Minu, lived in Cuttack and that it would be convenient for her. He could also take a train directly from Kolkata and arrive in Cuttack early that morning.
Her brother worked at a bank in Kolkata, and Minu had managed to find herself an administrative job at a college in Cuttack. Minu’s parents still lived in a small town about a hundred kilometres away from Cuttack, and after retirement, Anita’s parents had moved to the outskirts of Bhubaneswar. So, none of them was actually aware of what was cooking.
“Why do you insist on 20th June? Why can’t you wait till the horrible rains subside?” Anita complained further.
“That’s the day when our parents and grandparents were married. It is an auspicious day. Besides, Minu’s parents want to marry her off by winter. So, we must be quick.” Her brother tried to explain. Anita found it quite ironic that he was particular about getting married on the same day as their parents had, but was okay with the fact that they wouldn’t be present.
Her brother had been in love with Minu since twelfth grade. They were studying at the same residential college. No one in her family knew about their long affair until the year before. Minu spoke a different dialect and came from a different caste than Anita’s family. Anita’s mother opposed the marriage just as strongly as she had opposed Anita’s divorce. Her father did not entertain the idea either. Anita had met Minu only twice but found nothing wrong with her. In fact, Minu was rather pleasant, and they bonded well.
Not receiving the consent of their parents, Abhik had taken the drastic decision of a court marriage. “They will understand later,” he had told Anita, but she felt he was more like trying to convince himself.
When she reached the office about five minutes before 9, only a few people were seated in their cubicles–-the most sincere, “I live to work” type. Going through her emails, she realised no ad hoc tasks had come in for the day, so she should be good to leave after finishing her regular work.
“Sweets!” one of her colleagues said with a packet of burfis in her hand.
“Ahh… What’s it for?” Anita asked.
“Oh, haven’t you heard? Sasmita had a boy!” She said with a smile brimming on her face.
Anita took a burfi and forced a smile. People around her were moving ahead with their lives, and at twenty-nine, all she had was her ex-boyfriend’s social media profile to stalk and perhaps no hope for the future. Her parents tried to convince her for a second marriage, her mother kept reminding her that her biological clock was ticking, but she was still trying her best to get over Rohit. He had now relocated to another office. She just wished she could relocate him out of her mind as well.
Moving on isn’t easy. She kept telling herself that once she met someone better, the past would automatically fade away. She had expected her marriage to miraculously erase everything and mark the beginning of a new life, but she had been wrong. Nothing external changes you unless you change within; she had read that in a self-help book. It was given to her by her colleague and friend, Rina.
“What do you see in him?” Rina had asked when she found out about her affair with Rohit.
“I saw him and felt like spending my whole life with him,” Anita replied.
“Hmm.. Are you sure it’s love and not just attraction?”
“Isn’t thinking about someone all the time love?”
“Well, I will leave you to mull over that,” Rina answered with a heavy sigh.
She looked at the laughing Buddha on her desk—white in colour, with a silver base. The silver paint had chipped, revealing small patches of white in two places. Rina had given it to her when she was getting married. “Here’s to new beginnings,” she had said. Anita pressed her fingers to her forehead.
“What are you still doing here?”
She looked up to see Rina standing with a pen and a notepad in her hand.
“Meeting in five minutes. The boss has asked for a status call,” Rina said, rolling her eyes.
All other team leads were present in the conference room by the time they arrived.
“Okay, now we have everybody,” Debolina announced. She was their boss, widely known for being cruel and Darwinian.
She began speaking, “We have to meet a big target by next month end…”
Anita started growing apprehensive—what if the meeting dragged on and she was late? Bhai would certainly be incensed. Debolina had just moved to the fifth slide of the presentation deck when she mentioned that there would be a kick off meeting with the client tonight.
“Tonight!” Anita realised she had spoken aloud.
“Oh, I see you have taken a half-day leave. Right?”
Anita nodded.
“Well, the meeting is at eight for thirty minutes only. If possible, join as a mute listener, just to get the update.”
“I will try,” Anita replied. Murphy’s law came to her mind again. True, only bad things happen!
The meeting, thankfully, ran over by only ten minutes. She rushed back to her cubicle and resumed work. By 2 p.m., she was almost done. She could take care of the minor details on Saturday morning and submit it on Monday.
The empty pack of banana cake fluttered in the air, she hadn’t even realised she had finished it while working. She also hadn’t been to the gym that week. She wasn’t exactly plump, but she wasn’t lean either. She mustn’t neglect her routine any further, come what may.
“Hey, I have to get going now,” Anita told Rina on her way to the washroom.
“Have fun!” Rina responded.
Abhik had told her not to mention anything to a soul until the deed was successfully done, and Rina had assumed Anita was finally going on a date.
In the washroom, Anita changed into her salwar suit. She had worn her white, comfy sandals that went well with both her pink salwar suit and blue jeans. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror; her face was beginning to show the weight of sleepless nights and endless, mindless scrolling. She washed it, patted it dry with the paper napkins, applied sunscreen, then a light layer of face powder, and finished with a dark pink shade of lipstick. No need for too much makeup, it was just court, after all.
***
Anita was loving her drive down the Cuttack-Bhubaneswar highway. A Beatles song played on her car stereo. Her thoughts drifted to the marriage she had left behind. She had never been able to love her husband, and he had realised that within the first few months of their marriage—from her lack of concern for him and desire for intimacy. He spent his days working and drinking late into the night. When she brought up divorce, the look on his face was that of relief.
“She is an adult now and must be allowed to live her life her way,” Her brother had tried to convince their parents.
“No marriage is perfect! She is rushing through it,” Her father argued.
Her mother almost faked a heart attack with her hand on the wrong side of her chest.
Her brother seemed unfazed by all this and said that there was no point in being in a relationship without love. Now, she realised he had also been speaking for himself.
When she reached the court, she pulled her car into a lane beside it and parked it under a tree. She didn’t want to risk trying to find a parking spot inside the court premises.
As she approached the crowded gate, a man called out her name and waved at her. He was good-looking, dressed in a calming sea-green shirt and black trousers, and wore a smart watch. Anita liked watches. As he came closer, he introduced himself as Arav, Abhik’s colleague and friend. He was from Bihar and two years junior to Abhik at work, which meant he could be the same age as her.
“How did you recognise me?” Anita asked.
“Oh, Abhik showed me your picture,” he said with a smile. “This way, please.” He led the way.
Her brother was happy to see her. He wore a white shirt and grey trousers; he could have easily been mistaken for a lawyer. Minu was dressed in a mustard yellow Banarasi saree, which she kept adjusting. A plain looking woman, about their age, stood beside her. She must be the third witness, Anita thought.
“Good that you’re on time,” her brother said, giving her a quick hug. “She is Nikita, Minu’s friend,” he added, pointing at the woman who stood beside Minu.
They all greeted each other.
“Our names could be called anytime now,” her brother said, checking his watch. Anita could sense a bit of nervousness in his voice.
They sat down on the rickety wooden chairs and waited.
The courtroom was small and gave off a musty smell—the kind that comes from old office buildings. Legal notices lined the walls, some faded and already hanging forward at the corners. The fan turned so reluctantly that Anita felt its very existence was a sham. The marriage registrar had a lethargic look on his bespectacled face and sat browsing through official documents with practised detachment.
Her brother and Minu stood up when the clerk called out their names. He acknowledged them with a nod and gestured for them to come forward.
It didn’t take more than fifteen minutes for the formalities to be completed. There was no extravaganza of decorations, music, or chanting of mantras—just the signatures and a stamp on the certificate to mark the togetherness of the couple in future.
Abhik suggested having tea in a nearby store as they walked out of the court. The daylight was melting away, but Anita could sense her brother’s hope rising for a shared beginning with his wife.
“So, what is the plan now?” Anita asked while they were all sipping tea, and Abhik had just lit a cigarette.
“Well, Minu will get a transfer to the Kolkata Branch of the institute,” Abhik said. “It would take about a month.”
“And what are you planning to do for a month?” Anita asked again.
“It will continue as usual. I will visit her regularly on the weekends.” Abhik said.
“When will you tell our parents, Abhik bhai?”
“Hopefully, next Sunday,” Abhik said, his expression suggesting he didn’t even want to think about it.
“Expect drama!” Anita said with a blink.
Abhik exhaled deeply, trying to gather his thoughts.
After a while, Anita mentioned that she needed to leave because of the meeting she had that night.
“But you took leave,” Abhik said, a bit surprised.
“It doesn’t work like that. It’s not a bank, you know,” Anita replied with a smile, trying not to offend her brother.
“I wonder how they make you work so much,” Abhik said, his tone edged with resentment.
“Do you have any hobbies?”Arav asked, smiling.
“Oh, she doesn’t. When she isn’t at work, she is either glued to her phone or watching those Korean series,” Abhik said.
Anita suddenly realised she hadn’t checked Rohit and his girlfriend’s profile for more than five hours. Such a busy day!
“Hey, I love K-dramas too!” Minu said with excitement. That was the first time she had spoken since her marriage. Her friend, Nikita, hadn’t uttered much either. It seemed as if she only knew monosyllabic words like ‘hi’ and ‘yes’.
“Aren’t they quite emotional?” Arav asked, shifting his gaze from Minu to Anita.
“They are just romantic,” Minu said as though she was trying to be defensive.
“It’s kind of an addiction, don’t watch too much of it,” Abhik said mainly to Minu.
“Okay then, I should get going,” Anita said, taking her leave. They waved her bye as she left.
***
Anita had just reached the Bhubaneswar border when she came across a marriage procession. She was finding it impossible to drive amidst people doing the Nagin dance, bursting crackers on the road, and playing clamorous music. It was wedding season, after all. There was only an hour left for the meeting; moving at this pace, she wasn’t sure if she would make it to her apartment on time. Just then, her phone beeped—it was an email notification from the office. What now! She was glad to find the 8 p.m. meeting cancelled. Debolina had postponed it to Monday, as the client wasn’t available.
The weight lifted from her mind, and she finally relaxed her stiff shoulders. Upon reaching her apartment after almost an hour, she parked her car beside uncle’s SUV. Uncle, who must have long retired from his day’s work, was in his pyjamas again and standing on his porch.
“Seems like a long day for you today,” he called out to Anita.
“Oh, it really was,” Anita said.
“Did you attend a wedding?” Uncle asked, noticing the change in outfit.
“Sort of,” Anita said and wished uncle a good night before he could ask more.
He smiled and waved goodnight.
After a warm shower, she collapsed onto her bed, still wrapped in her bathrobe. She opened the social media app on her phone to stalk Rohit, but instead, her fingers wandered to her brother’s followers—and there she found Arav. As if by coincidence, a notification popped up, Arav had just started following her. His profile was private, so she sent a follow request, and he accepted it immediately. She began scrolling through his posts—gym videos, fine biceps, and that face with the perfect jawline. A ping interrupted her scrolling. It was a message from him; he had shared his phone number with her. Without a second thought, she started typing hers back.
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Mitra Samal is a Poet, Writer and former IT Consultant currently residing in Bhubaneswar, India. Her short stories are published in The Hooghly Review, Kitaab, Borderless and The Bare Bones Book of Humour, among others. Her poems have found place in Muse India, Madras Courier, Poetry Society (India) etc. She is also an avid reader and a cinephile. Her poetry book Silence Has a Sound was published (by Om Books) this year. She can be found on Instagram @am_mitrasamal and on X @MitraSamal.
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