"Did I really order three?"

"Yes you did." Nakul glanced at her. "You only needed one for your land. Don't know shit about farming, do you?"

Madhu ignored his taunt, staring at the three shiny new blue-coloured tractors which had arrived from Lucknow on the second day of Navratri, courtesy of the friend of Nakul's Jalandar buddy. They made her less-shiny-though-equally-blue Honda look like a pile of rusty metal. She tried to ignore the crowd of gawking villagers that had gathered in front of her house, whispering loudly enough that she could hear their excitement.

It didn't work, and she soon saw Sunanda coming towards them, stopping next to her. "Do you...plan on buying the whole village?"

Her neck was burning with all the attention on her. Usually, she liked being in the spotlight. But also usually, she was in the spotlight for good reasons; receiving congratulations after closing a difficult deal, bowing to applause on a stage, smiling at praise for being charitable.

Smiling at praise for being charitable.

"No, not on buying but gifting something to...the village? Two things actually."

Sunanda quickly caught on to what she was trying to do, but before she could say anything, Madhulika turned to the group of curious onlookers. "I'd like to make a donation to the Gram Sabha." Nodding towards Sunanda she continued, "Of two tractors, to be borrowed by any farmer who needs it. Sowing begins today na? They arrived just on time then."

A cheer went around. There was visible relief on people's faces, but they all anxiously started discussing who would get to use it first, how to use it and what would be the hourly rate of borrowing it. Some poorer farmers with smaller land holdings remained unaffected by the news, simply leaving the spot to go back to work. They had no use for machines in their tiny fields which only yielded enough for self-consumption.

"Are you sure?" Sunanda asked for only her to hear, also looking at the departing people. People who needed help the most but wouldn't be getting it by her spontaneous act of goodwill. An act mostly for her own peace of mind rather than their convenience.

Not enough.

"Yeah," Madhu told her, dismissing her pestering doubts. She caught Nakul's eye. "Like someone was kind enough to point out, I just need one."

The exchange didn't go unnoticed by Sunanda, but she didn't comment until they were halfway through their walk to the makeshift school behind the temple.

"You two are a thing now?"

"No."

"I remember you complaining about my husband wielding a gun on your boyfriend."

"Yet for some reason the gun part wasn't your main concern."

"Nakul had a gun too," she said, waving her hand in dismissal. "And it's not like Vishal would've actually done anything, you're too important of a person for him to hurt. Can't I just be happy for my friends?"

Madhulika, who was still not used to her nonchalant way of talking about Vishal's overall depravity, chose to address the second part. "Friends?"

"Would you rather be enemies when we're on the same side?"

Same side. It was an odd way to put it, given that this wasn't a game or a war. But Madhu understood what she was trying to say, and eventually nodded in acquiescence, deciding to keep her reservations private for the time being.

The morning rehearsals went as usual. Madhulika's heart swelled with joy when she saw the kids actually listening to Sunanda teaching, and not just bobbing on their heels impatiently to get to the fun part of school. If the dingy, single room and its metal shelves crammed with old donated books could be called a school. The thought further drilled in Madhu what the indifferent faces of the poorer farmers had.

Neither her nor her father had done anything for Bhabra, in spite of being her most privileged children.

She'd assumed convincing the kids to attend school and pitching in funds for constructing its proper building would be enough. But with each passing day, walls kept closing in on her. Her and the lies she kept telling herself.

Three weeks.

Sunanda had to visit the bazaar after school, leaving Madhu to go home alone.

A group of volunteers were setting up a stage in the empty ground behind the temple. Three piles of hay and dried wooden sticks were being collected to make up the skeleton of Ravana, Kumbhkaran and Maghnath's effigies, to be burnt on Dusshera. Sunanda had adopted a dramatic way to end Dusshera celebrations. According to her script, at the end of the Ramlila, the boy who was playing the role of Lord Ram would send a wooden arrow in the direction of the statues and someone would simultaneously light them from behind, symbolically burning evil to dust. If all went well, the stage won't catch fire too.

She took out the cows for grazing after returning home. Settling down on the wild grass, Madhu watched Gauri and Ganga munch on their lunch while ignoring her overexcited dog. Little Gayatri soon came over to her, folding her skittish legs to rest her brown head on Madhu's lap. The calf closed her big doe eyes when her fingers gently scratched her head.

"You know you have this bad habit of disappearing during mealtimes."

She titled her head to see Nakul standing over her, holding two foil rolls. "Please don't tell me you made paranthas again."

"Champa did," he said, moving to sit on the ground beside her.

They fell quiet, soaking in the warm sun rays characteristic of mid-October afternoons. If she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough, Madhu could almost transport back to the memories of her bunking school and lazing around with Shikha at a secluded corner of the football grounds. Much simpler times, when she hadn't been weighed down by grief and guilt.

Her mind jumped from school to home to Delhi, and in an attempt to distract herself, she turned towards Nakul. "You know that thing you do, the annoying thing?"

"What annoying thing? There are many."

She ignored the way her heart fluttered at the sight of him cuddling her dumb dog as he said that, and pinned him under what she hoped was a pointed stare. "That cryptic thing where you don't give me a straight answer when I ask about your scars. On your face, on your chest--"

"--Been thinking of my chest a lot lately?--"

"--NO, yes, that's not the point it's just." She took a deep breath. "It's just Sunanda was cryptic too yesterday, when she told me about her marriage with Vishal."

"How so?"

"She said Vishal owed her a life, and I've just joined two and two together." The tightening of his expression told her Nakul knew what she was talking about. "Did he...kill their baby?"

Madhulika had met her fair share of degenerates in her life, but never had she accused anyone of something so evil, even behind their back. Yet as soon as the question left her mouth, she knew she believed Vishal and his father to be capable of that cruelty.

"I suspect it. But she's never been straight with me either. When it happened, the villagers were told that Sunanda had delivered a stillborn, like so many others. I didn't really buy it because, well..."

"Because unlike so many others, Sunanda had all the facilities women need," Madhu finished his sentence, watching him nod. "How can she live with him?"

"She likes to keep her enemies close."

"And what do you think she's going to do?"

"I don't know. But I'll help her anyway, it's the least I can do after all she's done for me."

"And what is that?" Madhu asked, aware that all lingering traces of jealously had disappeared from her mind, and sympathy was all she felt for Sunanada.

"Well, being a good friend is one, and she also helped me with Sign after I came back."

Gayatri walked away to her mother, allowing Madhu to stretch her legs in front of her and lean back on her arms as she regarded him seriously. "Do you think she'll teach me too?"

"You don't have to trouble yourself," he said quickly.

"I know I don't have to, I want to. Can't have you knowing a language I don't understand. What if you use it to mock me to my face?" He grinned slightly and Madhu felt a familiar thrill that always greeted her whenever she was the cause behind his smiles. "Besides, you hate the device."

"I don't mind it."

"Why do you even have to use it?" she asked before she could help herself.

"Because wooden beams of a burning house falling on your head can have damaging consequences."

"If you want me to stop prying then just say so, no need to be so vague."

Nakul looked at her with unseeing eyes, as if contemplating something. "No, I just...I know I shouldn't be glad that it happened but when I woke up in the hospital half dead, that was the first time I didn't feel like a murderer. Ironic given that we'd just carried out an operation against terrorists, though of course they don't count."

"I still don't get it."

"You know what it's like to be a bad friend, right?"

A hollow, swooping sensation went through her when he stated what she already knew, but Madhu ignored it and nodded in answer. "The worst."

"I was one to Ved," he said, swallowing. "He was this, artistic army brat, who wanted to be a musician. But I didn't take that dream of his seriously. One cannot find fault in parents being unsupportive in such cases but when even his closest friend was dismissive, he did what his father wanted him to do and gave the entrance exam. And then he went ahead and died on a job he never wanted."

"So you blame yourself? That's--"

"--That's me overthinking, I know. But tell that to a grieving loner who wanted nothing more than to kill himself over it. If I'd just fed on his delusion of being a successful playback singer, he would've been a piss-poor, guitar-wielding moron with long hair. Not a body being dragged out of a pile of snow."

Madhulika felt bad about laughing, but she couldn't help it. "And here I thought guilt makes people kinder."

Nakul shrugged, corners of his mouth curling up at the memory. "It's true, he was good enough to be a part of the school choir but sucked during solo. Still, there are worse singers out there, minting money, he could've been one of them. At least he would've been alive."

"You're not responsible for his decisions Nakoo, school kids are dumbasses. How could you have given him career advice?"

"I know, took a long time and endless therapy but I know now." He turned towards her, letting Chikki run after Gayatri. "Still, talking about it isn't fun."

Strangely enough, Madhulika knew where he was coming from. Talking about Shikha was difficult too, yet somehow, after she had told him about her past actions, she had felt a lot lighter. And she was glad he trusted her too.

They stayed there, chatting until Nakul reluctantly returned to the workshop, already having stretched his lunch break for over an hour. When the animals were fed and watered, Madhu decided to lead them back too, making clicking noises with her tongue to guide them until Kamal came to her aid. They managed to move them back into the shed before the first streaks of dusk started marking the sky.

Madhu was about to get to work herself when she heard a voice calling out her name from the main gate.

It was Sunanda, holding the gate with one hand and supporting Suman with the other, while her daughters peeked at her from behind their mother's sari.