Soul Swap: Trapped Forever

Tripti stood in the middle of the living room, her heart pounding, but her voice was firm. She looked directly at her parents—Rahul and Manorama—her eyes burning with long-suppressed emotions.

"You've spent your whole life reminding me of every so-called favor you did for me" she said, her voice steady but cutting. "Every time you provided for me, every time you fulfilled a basic parental duty, you made sure I knew how much of a burden I was. But tell me something—how would you feel if, in your old age, I did the same to you?"

A heavy silence fell over the room. No one had expected Tripti to speak this way, least of all her parents.

"How would you feel if I started counting every penny I spent on you?" she continued. "If I restricted your every move, if I compared you to other parents just to make you feel small, if I sent you away to a place where no one knew you—without your consent? Would you still think it was love? Would you still say it's a child's duty?"

Sarvagya stood by the door, watching his wife with quiet admiration. He hadn't interrupted her, and he wouldn't. He knew she needed to say all of this. Her anger, her pain—it had been caged inside her for too long. And today, she was finally setting it free.

But he himself was stunned by Rahul's reaction. The man who had once so confidently arranged Tripti's engagement to Avinash, taking full responsibility for it, was now seething with anger because his daughter had dared to make a decision for herself. How ironic.

For the world, this was a love marriage. But for their families, it was an arranged one. So what right did Rahul have to be furious?

And Manorama—Sarvagya had expected at least a shred of reason from her. But no. She stood by her husband, justifying every wrong, blind to her daughter's suffering.

Tripti exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "You know what hurts the most?" she asked, her voice quieter now but no less intense. "I can't even remember the last time you treated me like your daughter. When was the last time you spoke to me without a motive? Without a complaint? Without making me feel like a burden?" She let out a hollow laugh. "I genuinely wish I had better parents. Or better yet—no parents at all."

"Tripti!" Manorama shrieked. "Watch your tongue!"

Tripti's eyes darkened, and she raised her voice. "Don't shout, Mom! The truth is bitter, I know. But if you ever meet a newlywed couple, instead of advising them to have kids early, tell them to be good parents first. Tell them to raise children who feel loved, not indebted. Tell them to give their kids independence, to make them good human beings instead of measuring them against others. Tell them not to treat their children as transactions."

She stepped back, her voice unwavering. "Because only parents who raise their children with love get to expect love in return. And only parents who give their children a good childhood deserve a peaceful old age." 

A suffocating silence settled in the room. The weight of Tripti's words pressed down on everyone.

Sarvagya finally broke the moment. "I'll take care of the bags" he said calmly. "Tripti, go pack the rest of our things from the room. We're leaving."

Rahul's head snapped up. "Leaving? At this hour? Where will you go, son?"

Sarvagya didn't hesitate. "A hotel."

Rahul stepped forward, his voice laced with disbelief. "If you're doing this because of what Tripti said, then you're making a huge mistake. You'll only understand our situation when you have children of your own. Especially a daughter."

Sarvagya tilted his head, his gaze unblinking.

"You think raising a daughter is easy?" Rahul continued, frustration creeping into his voice. "First, you fulfill their endless demands, you spend your life earning for them, then you find a good boy and arrange their marriage, knowing full well that in the end, they will never be your support. Daughters are somebody else's property—they belong to another home."

Tripti let out a bitter laugh. She looked directly at her father, her eyes holding a strange calmness.

"If you already consider your daughter as somebody else's property, then why should she stay back to take care of you?" she asked. "Yes, daughters leave their parents' homes when they marry, but that doesn't mean the bond is severed. You lost me the moment you saw me as a burden rather than a blessing. And if I'm truly just a property, then staying here holds no meaning."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked towards her room.

Sarvagya let out a quiet breath and faced Rahul and Manorama one last time.

"Tripti spoke nothing but the truth," he said, his tone steady. "It may be harsh, but it's honest. And if it hurts you, I apologize—but the fault still lies with you. You blamed her for your own mistakes. You even raised your hand on her, and yet you refuse to acknowledge your wrongdoing."

Manorama scoffed. "Parents never wish ill for their children. You won't understand this now, but one day, you will."

Sarvagya gave her a small smile. "Maybe. But parents are also human. They make mistakes. And the biggest mistake is refusing to admit them." He sighed. "Please, at least once in your life, learn to apologize. Whether it's to your child or anyone else—there's no shame in saying 'I was wrong.' Because children learn from their parents. If you don't teach them accountability, don't expect it from them either."

At that moment, Tripti returned with their packed bags. She rolled her eyes. "No need for lectures, Mr. Husband. You're talking to gods, not humans. And gods don't make mistakes."

With that, she and Sarvagya bent down to touch their parents' feet, performing their final duty.

Then, without another word, they turned and walked out of the house.

__________________________

The car ride was silent. Tripti stared out of the window, her reflection barely visible against the glass. Sarvagya sat beside her, his fingers drumming against his knee. Neither of them spoke.

Minutes passed. The hotel appeared in the distance, and as soon as the car stopped, Sarvagya got out, booked a room, and helped the driver unload their luggage.

Finally, they stepped inside their temporary home.

The moment they shut the door behind them, Tripti let out a long breath and collapsed onto the bed.

"I'm so glad you brought me here" she murmured. "If we had stayed even a second longer, that argument would've stretched till morning."

Sarvagya chuckled. "I realized something today—your parents will never change. They will never accept their mistakes. And I don't want to waste my time trying to prove anything to them."

Tripti nodded, her voice softer now. "That house suffocated me. It was my home in name only. But now…" she turned to him with a small smile, "now, I have a real home. With you."

Sarvagya's expression softened. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And I will always be with you, Tripti. No matter what."

She hesitated, then whispered "If one day I do nothing, if I just exist, will you ever see me as a burden?"

Sarvagya smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Never. You could do nothing at all, and I would still want you by my side. Because in this entire world, you are the only one who is truly mine."

Tripti smiled. "Then stay with me. Always."

"As if I could ever leave."

And for the first time in years, Tripti felt at peace.

________________________

The sun had barely risen when Sarvagya and Tripti arrived at the airport, still groggy from a late night of packing. Their driver had dropped them off before heading back to the Agnihotri Mansion. Though excited, fatigue weighed heavily on them as they navigated through the terminal, dragging their luggage behind them.

Yawning, Tripti glanced around, her instincts tingling with unease. For a while now, she had felt as if someone was watching her, following her even. Yet, every time she turned, she found no one suspicious. Maybe it was just her sleep-deprived mind playing tricks on her. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the thought away and leaned her head against Sarvagya's shoulder, gazing out of the airplane window.

Sarvagya, sensing her presence against him, smiled faintly and let his own head rest gently against hers, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

After a few minutes of silence, Tripti murmured, "You know, we should have gone to the temple first after our wedding. It feels wrong to begin our married life without seeking blessings, but of course, Mrs. Sejal had other plans. She just couldn't wait to send us on this so-called honeymoon."

Sarvagya exhaled sharply, his voice laced with bitterness. "That woman has nothing to do with God, nor does she care about traditions. She planned this trip for her own reasons. Otherwise, she wouldn't be so generous all of a sudden."

Tripti frowned, frustration evident in her eyes. "What's her problem, really? She has everything she could possibly want. Then why can't she just let you be?"

Sarvagya's voice was calm, but the underlying pain was undeniable. "Because what she truly wants is to get rid of me. She wants to see me broken, miserable. My happiness is intolerable to her."

Tripti clenched her jaw, her hands forming fists. "I really hate her."

Sarvagya smirked slightly. "Me too. But forget her, Tripti. Let's focus on our honeymoon. And don't worry, the first place we'll go after landing is the temple. I promise."

Tripti's eyes lit up, her mood shifting instantly. "Really? That makes me so happy!"

Sarvagya chuckled, mischief twinkling in his eyes. "If you're that happy, then I think a celebratory kiss is in order, don't you?"

Tripti's cheeks flushed, and she quickly shook her head. "Not in public! I don't feel comfortable."

Sarvagya held up his hands in surrender, grinning. "Alright, sweetheart. No pressure."

Tripti smiled, nestling back into the warmth of his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she let the exhaustion take over. Sarvagya, too, allowed sleep to claim him as the airplane soared into the sky, carrying them towards an uncertain future.