Telugu original: Gannavarapu Narasimha Murthy
Translated into English by Rajeshwar Mittapalli

That day, when I came home from the office, a police constable stood near our gate. He waited there for me. I saw him and felt a sharp jolt of surprise.

My father walked out at that moment and called to me.

“Hemanth, our daughter-in-law Madhuri has filed a 498A domestic violence case against us at the police station. That’s why the constable’s here. You go to the station once, talk to the SI garu, then we’ll go to the lawyer,” he said.

I felt stunned. I drank my tea in silence. Then I went out with the constable and set off for the police station.

Madhuri had gone to her parents’ home and had never come back. She had stayed there. Once she left like that, she never returned to our house again. I had called her twice and asked her to come back. I had tried to persuade her on the phone, but she did not come. I did not know what had happened there or who had said what. Yet now there was a domestic violence case against me.

I came out of my thoughts only when we reached the police station. The station’s SI, Mahesh, sat me down and began his questions.

“Do you and your wife ever fight? Do your parents harass her or trouble her in any way?”

He asked such questions for quite some time. Then he told me to come again the next day and sent me away. The Supreme Court had recently said that in domestic violence cases the police must not arrest the husband’s side without proper evidence. Because of that order, the police now carry out a full enquiry and check whether there is any truth in the complaint before they move to arrests or anything similar.

In my case, their two?day enquiry showed that we had done nothing wrong. Their investigation reached that conclusion, and in the end they called both of us for counselling. The next day I went to the police station for the counselling session. Madhuri came as well. I explained everything to the Dy. SP garu. He then turned to Madhuri and asked her many questions. In the end he decided that the fault lay with her.

“Madhuri garu, you’re an educated woman. How could you file a domestic violence case against your husband Hemanth and his parents when they’ve done nothing wrong? To file such a case without a proper reason is itself an offence,” SI Mahesh said.

“SI garu, I loved a boy called Vamshi before my marriage. I thought I’d marry him. But my parents didn’t like him at all. They refused the proposal flat out. They forced me instead. They got me married to Hemanth even though I didn’t like it. That’s why I’ve never truly lived with him wholeheartedly all these years. An unwanted marriage has troubled both of us. When hearts do not meet, when it is a loveless marriage, it ends like this. In one sense it is my fault. Hemanth is not to blame here,” she said. She admitted the truth in front of SI Mahesh and then withdrew the case.

Two years earlier I had finished my engineering degree and joined a software company. That is when I married Madhuri. She too worked as a software engineer. The match came to us through a pellilla perayya, a professional matchmaker. After the wedding I found out that she still had a love affair with this man Vamshi. I knew about it. Yet I believed that once we were married she would not keep such ties.

However, two months ago Madhuri left for her parents’ house—and that is how all this began. I do not know what that pellilla perayya, Rama Rao, told you about our marriage or what he left out. I only know what really happened,” Hemanth said.

That day Hemanth had gone with his parents to see a girl named Priya for pelli choopulu, matchmaking meeting. Her father, Shivaram, worked as a manager in a bank.

After the divorce from his first wife, Madhuri, Hemanth had decided that he would not marry again. He felt burnt.

But his parents pressed him—again and again—until he finally agreed to go for these pelli choopulu. Before they went, Hemanth spoke to the same matchmaker, Rama Rao.

“Tell them straight that I was married before and that I got a divorce. Explain it properly. Do not hide anything. If you hide it, there will be misunderstandings later,” he told him.

Even so, when they arrived for pelli choopulu, Hemanth himself repeated the whole story to Priya’s father, Shivaram. He did not stop at what Rama Rao might or might not have said. He wanted everything in the open.

After he finished, Shivaram said, “Rama Rao garu already told us that you divorced your first wife.”

Hemanth’s father, Raghava Rao, spoke then.

“Long ago, people used to say you had to tell a thousand lies to get one marriage done. That was another time. Things have changed. If you fix a marriage on a bed of lies, it doesn’t succeed. In fact it creates misunderstandings between husband and wife. Marriage doesn’t only join two hearts. It joins two families. No marriage that stands on lies runs smoothly. Our boy, Hemanth, is a blunt sort of man. He does not like to hide anything. That is simply how he is. We’ve told you the truth as it happened. Now it is up to you. Whether we move ahead with this match or not—only you can decide that,” he said.

After that, Hemanth and Priya went up to the terrace for a private talk.

“Priya garu, marriage is a journey that two people travel together as one,” Hemanth said. “They must share the profits and losses, the troubles and comforts, the grudges and affections—both of them, together.

Happy marriages begin when we marry the ones we love, and they blossom when we love the ones we marry. I read that somewhere. Do you know why I’m telling you all this? I’m a divorcee. In our society, divorced people never get much respect, especially when they’re men. Everyone keeps a soft corner for women, but when they look at men there’s always a slight suspicion. That’s why, in matters like this, people assume the man is at fault.

To tell you the truth, I don’t even want to marry now. I’d rather live alone for some years. I want to live without any bonds. But my parents kept pushing me. I finally gave in and came to see you.

Tell me something honestly. Are your parents forcing you into this marriage the way mine are? If they are, please say it now. If you have any doubts, ask me now and clear them. There’s no point regretting anything after the wedding is over. If you truly wish to marry me, then say yes. If not, let’s forget the whole thing,” he said.

“You’ve told me about your life,” Priya replied. “I must tell you a few things as well. I’m a divorcee too. I married a man called Mohan four years ago. He works in America. My parents did not really know anything about him. They only knew that he was an ‘America sambandham,’ a match from the US, and that was enough for them. They rushed into it and married me off to him. But he had already married an American girl there.

He hid that from us. He married me on top of that. I found out the truth only after the wedding. When I asked him about his first marriage, he started to abuse me. He hurt me physically and mentally. I suffered. In the end I came back here and filed a domestic violence case against him. The police arrested him and his parents. Two years later the court granted me a divorce.

After that I decided that I would never marry again. But my parents did not agree. They did not let it go. They insisted, and in the end they pushed me towards this match with you.

Like you, I told Rama Rao to inform you that I had already been married and divorced. I do not know whether he actually told you or not,” Priya said.

“Madhuri garu, Rama Rao did tell me that you had been married before,” Hemanth said. “Whenever a husband and wife divorce or when a marriage fails, everyone blames the man first. I am not trying to defend men as a group. Women and men both make mistakes. That is why we must judge right and wrong based on what really happened, not based on who is a man or who is a woman.

In my view, women and men are equal. One is not greater and the other less. My wife Madhuri filed a domestic violence case against me. People hear ‘domestic violence case’ and immediately assume the husband is guilty. If you and I marry, I do not want that sort of thought in your mind. If you hold such an idea deep down, you will not be able to share your life with me from your heart. Marriage is the journey of a man and a woman together.

We vow to walk seven steps together and to stay with one another for life. That vow is saptapadi seven steps. Before we take those seven steps, we must think. We must choose carefully—that is how I see it.

Once you marry, you must hold the bond together through every difficulty. You must not step back. You must not keep blaming your partner. You and I—both of us are divorcees. Marriage has left both of us with a bitter taste. Even though we know about each other’s past now, we will still carry a sense of guilt throughout our lives.

Marriage is the meeting of two hearts, the union of two minds. Yet our first marriages have filled us with such bad memories that we will never really live together with open hearts. Life will continue, but it will feel mechanical. It will not feel joyful and fresh, the way it feels for a couple marrying for the first time. After some time, there is a chance that misunderstandings will rise between us. There is no guarantee that they will not.

Right after a wedding everything looks beautiful. Then the flaws start to show. That is how I look at marriage. I got hurt once. I do not want it to happen again. That is why I am telling you all this now. I think it is better if we do not move forward. Let us stop here. Sometimes it is better to pause for a while. Time finds answers for everything,” Hemanth said.

“Hemanth garu, I wanted to tell you exactly the same thing. You said it yourself. Let us stop here. Let us stay friends for some time. Our future will decide how we move forward. I feel that something good will come for both of us,” Priya said.

When she said those words, her eyes grew moist. Hemanth noticed the shine of tears there.

All this had happened two years earlier. Now Hemanth and Priya were friends. They worked in the same company. With each passing day the understanding between them grew. Their interest in life returned. Affection crept in slowly, quietly.

Both families waited—for a piece of good news from the two of them.

“Seven Steps” (titled “Saptapadi” in Telugu) by Gannavarapu Narasimha Murthy was first published in Vartha Sunday Supplement, on 25 January 2026.

Translated into English by Rajeshwar Mittapalli.

Gannavarapu Narasimha Murthy was born in the agrah?ram of Kusumuru near Bobbili in the present-day Vizianagaram district. He holds an M.Tech in Civil Engineering and retired as Additional General Manager from a Railway Public Sector Undertaking—this background gives his fiction a firm grounding in contemporary life. He has written 42 novels, about 780 short stories, a technical book in English for railway engineers, and many essays. His novels include Matti Manushulu, Ankuram, Thoorpu Sandhyaragam, Sindhuram, Swarnamayuram, and Aranyam. His essays appeared in Dhwaja Sthambhalu and Manchi Cinemalu—his readers value his steady attention to social awareness and human relationships. His short story collections include Gandham Chettu, Thoorpu Padamara, Udutha Bhakti, Galivana, Veena Vedanam, Gamyam, Aksharabhayasam, Matti Vasana, and Pichuka Meeda Brahmastram. His tenth and most recent collection, Gannavarapu Narasimha Murthy Kathalu, gathers twenty-five stories that previously appeared in periodicals, grew from real incidents, and probe social conscience and human bonds. It also includes award-winning pieces such as “Erra Pavuram” and “Saraswati Namasthubhyam,” which underscore religious tolerance and education, respectively.