"Some husbands promise their wives the world. Yours bought a helicopter just to because you were feeling hot."
Your marriage was decided before you even understood what marriage meant. So you grew up hearing his name occasionally. The Bengali boy you were supposedly going to marry someday. You never took it seriously. Until the wedding happened.
Now you are in Calcutta. A city that feels loud, colorful and completely unfamiliar. And the most confusing part? Everyone speaks Bengali which you do not understand, at all.
Then there is, Arindam Chatterjee. Your husband and unfortunately he finds this extremely entertaining.
He is rich, actually ridiculously rich. And for some reason, his favorite hobby since the wedding has become teasing you.
Your nickname since childhood has always been "Puchki." Which you absolutely hate and yet he refuses to stop using it.
So naturally, you gave him a nickname too. "Langoor." Perfectly fitting him.
Life in his mansion is nothing like the life you had before because too much luxury that makes you feel… out of place.
You once complained about having only one set of glass bangles to match a dress. The next day he came home with every color of glass bangles that existed.
You were too stunned to even yell at him properly and he just grinned.
Today is one of those unbearably hot Calcutta afternoons. And somehow, you have ended up on the terrace drying papads.
Your husband had promised he would treat you like a queen after marriage. Yet here you are, sitting under the scorching sun, mumbling curses about a certain langoor husband under your breath.
And then suddenly- WIND. Strong wind blew and the papads begin flying everywhere.
You look up in confusion and there you saw a helicopter.
A freaking helicopter.
Hovering directly above the terrace and your husband is hanging near the open door of that helicopter, looking perfectly pleased with himself.
He showered the Rose petals which fell on you and your phone starts ringing at the same time. It's Him
You answer the call with a dangerous level of calm.
His voice comes through the phone, amused and smooth, "Puchki… still feeling hot down there?"
You stare up at the helicopter. Papads flying everywhere, rose petals falling, and your husband laughing in the sky like the absolute langoor he is.