The Pampered Princess
The house in Lucknow often echoed with laughter, but one voice always overpowered the rest—Ritika’s.
“Papa, I want this dress. Not the red one—the blue one. If you don’t buy it, I won’t eat today!” she declared at just 10 years old.
Her father chuckled, “Alright, princess. Whatever you say.”
Neha and Suman, her elder sisters, exchanged looks. “She’s turning into a storm,” whispered Suman.
But nobody dared to correct Ritika. The youngest was the apple of everyone’s eye, and slowly, pampering turned into poison.
Teenage Rebellion
At 17, while her sisters studied hard, Ritika preferred hanging out with friends at cafés.
Her mother warned, “Beta, focus on your graduation. Education will shape your future.”
“Future?” Ritika laughed. “I already have one. I can speak English better than any of my teachers. Why waste time on boring books?”
Her father sighed, defeated. “Let her be. She knows what she’s doing.”
Her sisters shook their heads silently. They knew this was the beginning of something dangerous.
First Taste of Independence
At 20, Ritika landed a job at a fancy coffee shop. Customers admired her fluent English and radiant smile.
One evening, she came home proudly waving her first salary. “Look, I earn more than your dowries will ever cost! I don’t need anyone to fund my life.”
Neha calmly replied, “Ritika, money is good, but stability is better. Think about finishing your degree.”
Ritika smirked. “Stability is for boring people. I’m different. I’ll never live like you both.”
Marriage Mockery
By 26, both her sisters were married. At a family gathering, relatives praised Neha’s husband for his success and Suman’s little son.
Ritika burst out laughing, “Oh my God! You two chose slavery! Cooking for in-laws, raising kids, being bossed around by a husband? I’d rather change boyfriends every month than die of boredom.”
The relatives fell silent. Her parents looked embarrassed. Her sisters, however, simply smiled and said nothing. Deep down, they knew time would answer better than words.
Breaking Away
At 29, her parents insisted she consider marriage. “Ritika, life is not a game,” her mother pleaded. “Good proposals are coming your way. Think wisely.”
“I will not marry just because society wants me to,” she snapped. “I’ll live how I want.”
That night, she packed her bags and moved in with her boyfriend, Rohan. Her father sat silently in the veranda, tears rolling down his cheeks.
The Cycle of Love and Breakups
Ritika’s new life was glamorous—late-night parties, live-in relationships, and constant attention. She often bragged, “Why tie yourself to one man? When I get bored, I move on. Simple.”
But every relationship cracked. Rohan left after her constant fights. Another man proposed marriage, but she laughed in his face. “Marriage? Don’t be pathetic. I’m not meant to be caged.”
Men came and went. She grew used to saying goodbye without regret. Or so she thought.
Cracks in the Mirror
At 39, she noticed the stares had changed. Younger women at the coffee shop got more attention. Her manager called her in one day.
“Ritika… you’ve been great here. But we’re hiring new faces. Freshers, you know… our customers prefer young energy.”
Her pride shattered. “So, I’m being replaced because I’m old?”
The manager avoided her eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s business.”
Walking out of the café, jobless, Ritika felt a fear she had never known before.
Silence Replaces Applause
Her phone, once full of messages, was now silent. She scrolled endlessly, waiting for someone to text. Nothing.
One evening, she dialed an old boyfriend. “Hey, it’s me, Ritika. Want to meet?”
He hesitated. “Uh… I’m married now. With kids. Please don’t call again.”
She dropped the phone, staring blankly at the ceiling. “How… how did life pass me by?”
Family Ties Severed
Her parents passed away after long illnesses. Ritika never visited, too absorbed in her own life. The family house was sold to pay medical bills.
At the funeral, Neha and Suman avoided her. Later, when Ritika tried visiting them, Neha stopped her at the door.
“Ritika, we have families. Please don’t bring your past into our homes. Our children… our husbands… they don’t need your shadow.”
Ritika pleaded, “But I’m your sister!”
Suman’s eyes welled up, but she said firmly, “You chose this path. We begged you, but you never listened. Now, please… don’t disrupt our lives.”
The door shut. For the first time, Ritika felt utterly unwanted.
Rock Bottom
By 45, Ritika had no job, no partner, no family. The once-vibrant woman now sat on pavements near the same coffee shop she once ruled.
One rainy evening, a group of college girls giggled while entering the café. One pointed, “Isn’t that the aunty who used to work here?”
Ritika hid her face, her heart pounding with shame.
That night, she whispered to herself, “I laughed at marriage, mocked my sisters, insulted my parents… and now I have nothing. Nothing.”
The Final Reflection
Sitting alone, she replayed her life:
- “I thought freedom was rejecting rules.”
- “I thought love was endless choices.”
- “I thought arrogance made me powerful.”
She smiled bitterly through tears. “But freedom without values is destruction. Choices without wisdom are traps. Arrogance… is loneliness dressed in pride.”
As hunger gnawed at her stomach, Ritika extended her hand to strangers for coins. The same hand once adorned with rings and admiration was now trembling and empty.
The princess of her childhood had turned into a beggar of her own making.
🌟 Moral of the Story
Life without humility, discipline, and respect turns freedom into slavery of one’s own arrogance. Choices made in pride often end in regret.
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