Author’s Pov 

The sands of Rajasthan glow golden by day, but at night, they wear a shroud of black.
Amidst the dunes of Jodhpur, even the moonlight trembled that night.
And through that eerie silence, a convoy of black vehicles moved steadily along the sandy path.
But this wasn’t an ordinary wedding procession.
This was a wedding party returning with a bride who still couldn’t believe her fate.
Because her marriage had happened… by force.

At the front of the convoy sat Phool, inside a black Land Cruiser.
Dressed in a red bridal lehenga, her face hidden under a veil.
Her fingers were trembling, and the bangles on her wrist made a soft, tinkling sound every now and then.
Every little sound startled her.
Beside her sat Krit, his face cold as stone.
He was silent. There was no warmth in his eyes.
Without looking at her, Krit spoke,
“Your tears won’t quench the thirst of this land.”
Phool slowly lifted her head, gathering courage, and asked softly,
“When… when will we reach?”
There was no emotion in Krit’s voice.
“As soon as this road ends.”

Phool’s gaze drifted outside.
There was no one in sight across the endless stretch of sand.
Her throat tightened painfully.
From the wedding mandap to this car… it felt like she had lost her entire life.

The convoy consisted of about four vehicles.
All black, with tinted windows.