Manik

The sprinkles of water were abruptly shut off. As I stood there beading the cold water droplets off my body, I thought about the whole night at a glance. The day I learned that I was adopted, my whole life had turned upside down. It was true, I was merely a teenager dealing with an existential crisis even before the whole ordeal had unravelled. That day I had irrationally rushed to Nandini's place, without thinking twice about the consequences.

March 2011

I was halfway up the stairs to the front porch with a badminton racket in one hand when I realised Abhimanyu's bike wasn't parked at the gate. He was most likely at the football grounds already. The potted plants on either sides of the porch were budding, a sign that February was nearing its end. I knocked once on the door, loudly. A short lady in a pastel yellow salwar kameez opened it.

"Aunty, Nandini hai ghar pe? Oh—sorry..." I scratched my head, "...is Nandini..."

Her reaction was that of sheer confusion, looking at my height, my tardy uniform and the way my bag was casually slouched over my shoulder she inferred that I was definitely not in her class, surely senior to her. Nevertheless, the warmth in her face hadn't disappeared. "Haan, andhar aao na beta," I kicked my shoes off at the doorstep before entering with my right foot.

"Hi Aunty, I'm Manik... aapko toh bohot acchi tarah Hindi aati hai?!"

"Main toh Punjabi hoon beta, Nandini ke Chacha se shaadi karke naa main Kannad seekh paayi hoon na unko main Hindi sikha paayi, kya loge, chai? Nandini abhi aa rahi hogi," I heard the tap running the bathroom closest to the lounge. Perhaps that was where Nandini was.

"Haanji," I took a seat at the head of the dining table. We had a proper chat in Punjabi where she was discussing her hometown and referencing certain towns, to which I didn't have much to say. Understanding my reluctance, she quickly changed topics to some delicacies that she had planned to make for the evening, and that had she known I was coming she would have started making them sooner. My heart dropped in my chest. A woman who had known me for a mere ten minutes was more affectionate and happy to see me than the woman that raised me for almost fourteen years of my life.

Nandini had mindlessly walked in the middle of Chachi's conversation, with a towel hung on her arm. Her feet, hands and face were damp from freshening up, and she had just changed into some comfortable pajamas. Her eyes widened at me and she quickly composed the sudden thrill and fuzzy feeling within. "Hey Manik, how come you're here? Abhimanyu is out with the rest of your gang," She asked as she strode to the kitchen to have her cup of tea, trying hard to maintain her stance as a girl who had nothing to do with me. She beamed behind her cup.

Her Chachi relaxed further upon hearing that.

"I actually came to invite you to play badminton with us, your brother and Mukti are playing a 1v1 tournament so she appointed me to come pick you up,"

She looked down at herself. "I just changed into pajamas..."

"It'll be nice if you came, Mukti would really love to have you there," Part of me wished she would've joined without hesitating. The other part of me wanted her to know it was me who really needed her then.

Scanning my face for a moment longer than just-friends, she took a sip as she saw my half-undone tie and restless feet. "Okay, I'll come, give me two minutes," She said, placing the almost-full teacup on the countertop and rushing back up.

"Oye Nandini, at least finish your tea! What is this? She never leaves her tea unattended," Chachi complained, the second part being directed to me.

"I'll have it after changing, Chikkamma,"

Moments later, we were out the door, two streets away from her house when her hand reached to make contact with mine softly. I hadn't clasped her hand back as I usually did.

"Manik, what's wrong?" Until then, she still bore a gentle smile that had been lingering since the time she'd first seen me at her house and been quite unaware of the fact that we were walking all the way to the ground, or the fact that I had so hastily ushered her out of her home just to walk in silence beside her.

That short walk, alone with her, had given me mild relief from the torment that was life itself.

"Manik?" She cooed, pulling my locked left hand to stop me in my tracks. I turned towards her slowly, utterly exhausted. "Are you unwell?" Her voice laced with concern hadn't pricked me as much as her instinctive hand to my forehead did. She drew back, convinced that I wasn't having a fever, then dragged me to the gap between one of the houses, obstructing us from the eyes of passersby.

At that point, she had leaned in, holding both my hands on either sides of us and pressing most of her upper body on me. Her eyes were glistening. "What is it?" She asked, her voice almost breaking.

"I just found out I'm adopted, and I don't know how I feel about it," Her shock mirrored my exhilaration. I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders in sharing this small detail of my life with her. And she, taking on my problems as her own, was now finding it difficult to breathe or stay aput.

"How... how?" 

"I found the information... in an inheritance deed they signed when we were adopted..."

"They chose to have you and Mukti in their lives, for what, to take over the business after their time, but cannot do the bare minimum as parents to fulfill that role for you two? They're so selfish!" Her hands untwined from mine and were now flapping in the space around us. I was amused at the vehement reaction from her end. The only other people I would've expected such a strong response from was my friend group. But why had it not crossed my mind to tell them yet, and why had I come to her first?

And all the frustration and internal conflict I had come to her with had now faded into a mild sense of contempt to my destiny and things that were so out of my control.

I had become suddenly aware that Nandini had been so close to me. Her silent huffs were striking my collarbone like mini rockets. Feeling her flesh swallow the gap under my pecs, my body turned warm.

"It should bother me but it really doesn't," I added, with a mischievous smile, that Nandini had not caught on to.

"Well, good for you because I'm so angry at them from the both of us!"

Here I had instigated a ladybug to fight against the world for me, and it had brought me joy?!

⭒⭒⭒

8 September 2010

Sorry Babbu, I've not caught up with you in a while. I had to memorise 42 reactions for my Chemistry test that happened today and I mixed 3 of them up! Tomorrow is my English assessment, but English is my strong subject so I'm not worried. So I decided I'll write to you and run you down on what happened early this week.

On Monday, Harshad and Navya were passing by each other after the morning assembly and he waved at her, or at least that's what she thought. She waved back but then saw another senior girl behind her. She was embarrassed, but but... wait that's not it... Harshad finally noticed Navya, stopped, and then had a quick introduction with her, so she's over the moon.

I wasn't thrilled at the news considering Mukti and Harshad were still together and hence it meant nothing, but I also wanted to be supportive of Navya's one-sided crush. After all, it was a harmless one.

On that note, Mukti and Manik didn't come to school the last two days. I saw them on Monday morning at the assembly, during which they had a heated discussion and left towards the school gate instead of upstairs to class. I haven't discussed Manik with anyone yet, except for you Babbu because of course you're going to keep my secret safe, aren't you? I have more to say about Manik, but let me finish everyone else's updates first.

I met Aryamann's little sister at the beginning of lunch break yesterday. She had come to our class to borrow a couple of pens from Aryamann, when they ran into a small tiff about her never returning his pens, and about him always getting new ones as he was the older one. Naturally, I was reminded of my arguments with Abhi and smiled. That was when she introduced herself, Soha. She seemed like a sweet girl, she had hair only up to her neck and wore a fountain ponytail that sat cutely on the top of her head. She was in 8th and her handwriting resembled pearls–evenly sized and spaced along the line, and pleasant to see. She told me I could come to her class whenever I had enough of Aryamann, and I kindly accepted the offer, to his displeasure! From the interaction with her, it seemed like Soha thought Aryamann and I had something going on. I really hope that is just a false alarm and he doesn't develop any hopes :(

About today, I accompanied Navya to the seniors' floor. It had been a few days since I'd properly seen or spoken to Manik, and I was aware of his absence in bursts. When he was around, I looked forward to seeing him: I passed the first half of my day like that. The second half was passed rejoicing the memory of meeting him and its aftereffects. That's when I saw Mukti, dazed and almost lifeless. The usual kohl around her eyes wasn't on today, and she looked like she needed a hug. Her eyes glimmered at the sight of me, and then sunk upon seeing Navya and Harshad lock eyes. How must that feel, watching the man you're with so carried away by another woman. I strode in her direction, it is nothing but a crush, Harshad is still your boyfriend.

She met me halfway, took my hand gently in confidence and hung it between us. As if erasing the frowns off my face, she circled her thumb behind my hand. I tip-toed over her shoulder, ensuring that I was blocked from Navya's line of sight.

"What happened?"

"Your friend, what's her name?"

"Navya."

"Haan, Navya... she likes Harshad, I know. But that guy is not a nice guy. He'll hurt her, trust me." To say that about your own partner requires a certain amount of strength. And the conviction with which Mukti said it, as though she genuinely cared about Navya, regardless of Navya's involvement with her boyfriend showed how pure she was at heart. And for some reason, I felt the sting.

I felt a fury like never before, "Why is he like this?"

"That's a story for another day, come to basketball and I'll tell you," she chuckled.

I asked the most pressing question running through my head, "Why don't you leave him?"

She gave me a small smile, tapping my chin gently as a wise sister would, "Sometimes, men do this thing where they make you believe a fantasy," she sucked her lips to keep her tears intact, making a sound, "...and they show that they keep their promise, but with baby steps..." I instinctively held her hands firmly, "...and the finish line might take a lifetime to reach, but they try, and that's the reality you fall for," and with a minute smile, she tapped my cheek.

I pursed my lips. My heart twisted at the depth of emotion in every word she said. I wanted to do something to comfort her. This side of her, the most fragile one, I loved the most. As if she read my mind, she pulled me into her embrace. I rubbed her back gently, trying to ease as much pain as I could. Justifying its superiority, my heart screamed to my rational brain, but Manik is different.

I don't know with what sincerity, or faith, I thought that.

But I trust Manik.

Speaking of, after school today, Chikkamma insisted that Abhimanyu and I accompany her for Ganesh Chaturthi shopping. It was the first festival we were getting to spend at her home and she wanted to make sure it was one of the grandest festivals the community ever saw. Ammamma was not happy when we told her we weren't coming for the Ganesha pooja, but after a lot of convincing and crying, she agreed to come to Mumbai that weekend and spend time with us. Abhi bailed on shopping saying he needed to get some study done, but I was not too sure about that, seeing how his phone buzzed every 10 seconds.

Chikkamma, Rishu and I took the first auto-rickshaw outside our house and agreed to the requested amount without any bargaining. If Chikkappa knew, he would scold us for not fighting with the 'rickshaw-wala'–that's what these guys call the rickshaw drivers–and saving ourselves 20 to 30 extra rupees. You could have bought yourself an extra pair of earrings with that money, he would say! He was the perfect person to take along with us on shopping trips.

"So in 1992, when it was our first anniversary, your Chikkappa and I went to Delhi to celebrate. There he got me that gorgeous handmade salwar, you remember the fern-coloured Rajasthani one?" I nodded, recollecting the sheer number of gazes and compliments that came her way when she wore it to Ritu Akka's engagement party in Mandya. "That was just 1400 rupees, you know? Best place to shop." She flicked her hands in joy as if stating the obvious. Then the 'rickshaw-wala' and she got into deep Hindi conversations until it came to payment time.

We scoured the market for some good bulk steals. Chikkamma debated between a salwar kameez and a saree, but on my insistence chose a gorgeous copper coloured one with golden embellishments on it, and a beautiful stoned heavy border. Rishabh spotted an orange kurta and instantly fell in love with it. I, on the other hand, found it overwhelming to be invited to every shop, see tens of suits, and not know which one to pick. Some say too little options is a problem, I have the opposite problem. Like imagine Babbu, not wanting to upset the shopkeeper, but at the same time not being able to make my mind up... ugh, drove me to frustration.

"Buy a lehanga, Nandu, here half sarees are not the Mysur silk kind..." I bit my lower lip, glancing over the heap of clothes spread out for me to choose from. Sensing my discomfort, Chikkamma held my hand and said, "Bhaiyya woh wala dikhaana, woh magenta wala..." The shopkeeper pulled out a dark magenta lehanga with a readymade lacy blouse of the same colour. There was no silk border on it, it wasn't my style, but Chikkamma and Rishabh were thrilled by it. "Yeh toh sajega meri bacchhi pe!"

I held it against myself and saw it in the mirror. It was a unique shade, of course, but the material... "Madam silk ka ek blend hi hai yeh,"

"Chikkamma but what jewellery do I wear with this? I have nothing,"

"Arre! We'll buy na today, do you like this? We think it looks beautiful," She said, siding with Rishabh who was all smiles. Politely, I nodded and reciprocated, wondering what Manik would think about it.

⭒⭒⭒

Manik

That day was fresh in my memory, as if it only happened yesterday.

Abhimanyu, seeing the opportunity of an empty house, invited us over to hang out together instead of out at the basketball court. Being late teens, staying in our uniforms while doing adult stuff was more rebellious, so we didn't bother changing. Neither did we hesitate for an opportunity to intoxicate ourselves.

You kept everything inside
And even though I tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually

Be a memory of a time when I

Dhruv and I had stopped on the way to stock up some booze, and walked in together to a room booming with beats. "I tried so hard and got so far, but in the end, it doesn't even matter," we sung in chorus.

"Aa gaye miya biwi..." came Cabir's voice, breaking the room into chuckles.

The gravity or meaning of the song playing hadn't hit us. We were rather joyous, thriving in each other's presence. Linkin Park was that kind of band. Abhimanyu was on a beanbag blowing rings by the window, Mukti was beside him on the floor, Alia on the bed, and Cabir was on the rolling chair by the desk, playing  Liberty City on Abhi's PSP. The situation was perfectly set up for Dhruv and I to sit on either side of Alia. Nandini apparently. wasn't home, but I didn't dare ask Abhimanyu where she was. Instead, I took the spot on the carpet right beside the door while Dhruv hopped on the bed.

Then, I would know when she would enter.

Cabir who had paused the game on our arrival stretched. "Fire me one," He said, eyeing the Malboros beside me. I pulled my lighter from my blazer pocket and tossed it with an opened box at him. "Aren't you having one?" Abhi turned at the mention of Manik Malhotra not having a ciggy, so I reluctantly popped one for myself. With the first breath, I felt relief. I leaned back on the wall.

There's only one thing you should know
I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go

Mukti was drunk to her guts, and processed sentences moments after the conversation moved on. While falling over on Abhi, she murmured, "Kabhi kabar toh yahi sahi hai, lesbian hi hona tha mujhe!" Those days I often thought to myself how ideal it would be if those two dated instead of Harshad and her. "I mean, Abhi, tell me this... if you were in love with a girl, would you let her cry?"

His face changed briefly, aware that I was there. Everyone knew the mention of Harshad or any of his doings was not tolerated with me around. His gaze softened as he shuffled the seat to give her more support. "If I'm not the reason, sure!" He said with a chuckle, receiving a frail punch in return as she flushed.

I inhaled another puff, blowing into the ceiling. If only our parents hadn't majorly fucked up in raising us, maybe we would have been able to make better choices in our lives; sometimes I pondered how things would've been if we spent our childhood at the shelter.

I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end it doesn't even matter

Alia's eyes were on me. For a while, she had been looking in my direction every now and then while sipping her drink. At first, I thought she wasn't very happy about the Harshad topic either.

"Is your bike running fine now?" She asked, with a lingering pout kinda smile that drew my eyes to her lips painted red. Quite recently, my bike had been a pain in the ass to ride around without the speed it usually gave me. The engine didn't sound as bullet-like anymore either.

"Oh yeah, turned out to be some stupid carburettor issue, got it replaced though so sounds like a beauty now." She nodded and continued to glance at me at intervals.

We made eye contact a couple of times, to which we both smiled, but it was bordering on discomfort. I shifted my dazed attention to Dhruv, who was stroking his guitar strings gently.

"Fuck, five star wanted level hai mera," Abhi inched from his seat to check it out, as Cabir stole himself a plane to flee the cops.

In the corridor, I heard faint noises. "Offo, this fellow leaves all the lights on!" I pressed my lips, thrilled as Abhi sat up straight at the meek scoldings.

"Guys guys, shh..." He flapped, quieting down himself. Cabir dialed the music down. Mukti started to say something, and Abhi pressed his palm to her mouth, pulling her into his lap. She verbally protested but turned her volume down.

"Rishu, turn them off and Nandu, go light the puja lamps beta, I'll get dinner started."

Mukti mumbled into Abhi's palm about needing to pee. If she went now, she would take forever to get back in one piece. That was my chance to gap. I put out my cigarette, faked a call to get out of the room and snuck into the nearest bathroom that opened into another room.

Peeking through the hinges of the door, I had seen Nandini enter the room with two shopping bags of stuff.

She pulled the garment out of the bag, admiring it. Then, she placed it on herself and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. I stared, shamelessly. I found myself strolling towards her, exposing my hideout. "Ah shit, phone!" She turned to her right as I snuck up behind her.

"You can take the pictures on my phone," She jumped and dropped the gorgeous purple skirt. Her shock turned to mild excitement.

"Manik! What-" And as if she'd realised, she mellowed and turned away, "I mean-what are you doing here?" She was slithering away at a snail's pace, avoiding my eyes, almost intimidated by me.

"I don't know, you tell me... am I getting a fashion show?"

"No, I-" Her face turned red, and she shivered as she hit a wall. Forced to meet my sight, her breathing raced. I would be lying if I said I wasn't massively attracted to her. The urge to pull her in, to feel the warmth of her body, was overpowering. Intoxicating.

"I would like to see what you've bought," I narrowed in on the gap between us, leaning in. Her hand quickly clasped mine, with a tightening grip in anticipation for what was to come. The tension rose, as a snowball growing in size with every roll down a mountain. With every passing moment.

And a cool whiff of air blew through the window. She put her hand on my chest, resisting me from coming closer. "Manik, have you been smoking?" I nodded lazily, backing off. Of course, she didn't like it when I smoked.

"Nandini, are you done?"

"One more minute, Chikkamma!" "Manik, you have to go," She pushed, but I wasn't fighting back. I was hazed, annoyed at my luck for being that close to kissing her but not being able to do it.

"When can I actually see you wearing that?"

"Depends, will you come for the Ganesh pooja?"

I huffed, impossible, I wanted to say. "No, I don't do those things, I'm not religious. At all."

"Clearly." What followed was a small smirk. As she licked her lips to cover it up, she muttered, "Okay go now," My eyes dropped to her now glistening lips. They were a natural soft pink, not a tint of lipstick on–not painted red like Alia's–but somehow more captivating.

Hers was the one I wanted to claim.

⭒⭒⭒

9 September 2010

Technically, Babbu, all this happened late last night, but I'm wide awake now and think it is high time I update you.

Chikkamma spotted Alia and Dhruv sneaking out of our place as she was serving dinner. Mukti had passed out, and Cabir had escaped with her just a while earlier while Chikkamma was distracted with Rishu and I, and hadn't noticed. Anyways, she started interrogating them at first, but seeing Dhruv's coyness, many can't be suspicious for long. She invited them to join us for dinner, and I put up a gentle welcoming smile.

As they took their seats opposite to us, Rishabh who was at the table finishing up his meal, clutched his head. I abandoned my plate and jumped to his rescue. He looked at Dhruv, then jolted and clutched his head again. Dhruv seemed to be fine, although he was no longer smiling. He was facing elsewhere, eyeing the direction furthest from us. I helped Rishu with some water, but worried that he might not be feeling too well, I guided him to his room, bringing his food upstairs with me.

"Are you sure you're okay? What happened?" Rishabh shook his head, and snuck into his sheets. I had a feeling he had more to say. I was afraid to peer. The last thing I wanted was a full-fledged attack. "Okay okay, do you want more food?" He shook his head again. I examined his nearly empty plate. "Alright, get some sleep now, I'll bring you a glass of milk when I sleep."

Rishabh shuffled in the bed, and finally, put his head on my lap before closing his eyes serenely. The flight response had subdued, replaced by an unbearable void. I let the first tear drop. For many many years I wondered why God had left me be, why I wasn't taken away like Amma and Appa, or why I was unharmed, unlike Rishu. Why was I the sole unscathed survivor in that explosive attack? What was I even worth, to be saved?

Maybe it was for this very moment, to protect my baby brother and be a second parent to him, to comfort him when he was troubled and in pain. Maybe God wanted me to ease his suffering. For that, I am grateful. But if there was one thing I could wish for, not change, it would be to swap his pains with mine. He deserves a normal life, and I don't know when and what would bring that to him.

I caressed his head, combing his hair evenly in the process. I remembered how much I longed Amma's presence whenever I felt sick. How horrible must he feel to be thrown into that deep end at random times and so often.

Moments later, I heard soft snores. Just like Appa! Suppressing my giggle, I put my hands under his head and slowly moved him to a pillow, careful not to disturb him. Dhruv and Alia were downstairs, and it would be awkward for Chikkamma to be with them by herself. I headed down, passing Abhi's room.

I knew Manik was still in my house, with Abhi. He hadn't eaten yet and from the little I knew him, he spent very little time eating his lunch during break.

I forced Chikkamma to start eating while I took over to serve everyone else. I made a few dosas, and separated three from the lot–wrapping them with foil along with a bowlful of potato curry. I was slightly worried he might not like it, after all it's South Indian food and he's Punjabi.

And oh God... earlier, this evening, Manik almost kissed me. I'll try not to go into too much detail, but long story short: I can't even begin to tell you how nerve-wracking the moment was. In all the movies I've watched and books I've read, they describe the first kiss to be this slow-burn, enchanting moment. To me, the build-up to it felt nothing less than terrifying. My mouth went dry, my feet were trembling; I could hear my heartbeats in my eardrums, like the ticks of a clock, counting down for embarrassment to kick in.

He's obviously kissed before. He's had many girlfriends, he knows what it's like. He knows how to kiss. To me, it's very new. I've never even felt all these things for anyone before, let alone have a boyfriend. What if I'm not good? Is Manik even my boyfriend? I've never asked him that, how does anyone go about 'officialising' it? I'm sorry Babbu, I'm rambling, I know.

And even if I wanted to Google something about 'how to kiss', I would have to use Chikkamma's or Abhi's phone, both of which sound like disasters to me. I'm not ready for this so early in the 'relationship', Babbu. I think I should tell him that, that I want to take it slow... what do you think about that?

Abhi had joined the dinner table long after the rest of us were done eating, and ate while flipping a textbook beside him. Both Chikkamma and I were not having it and knew studying was the last thing he was up to. Nevertheless, Chikkamma doesn't interfere much in Abhi's life and lets him do his thing, maybe because he's a boy. Boys are always precious in our households. Maybe one day he would tell me what is on his mind. Maybe then I will be able to open up to them, about Manik. There's a long way to that.

I washed my dinner plate and hands and opened Abhi's room with a plate in hand. The friends had sprayed a bunch of room freshener to mask the smoke smell, which welcomed me with a very cute headache. Very cute. Manik was playing a video-game on Abhi's PlayStation I think it was called, with his feet over the table. You know, just usual precious boy things. He was too busy with his very important work to notice me enter, so I left the food on the table. On my way out, I felt a strong pull on my wrist. Within milliseconds, he had paused his "work", had gotten up, spun around, and lured me in, all with one hand.

"Hey!" The meek smile behind the greeting made my heart flutter.

"I got you some dinner. If you don't like it, don't force yourself,"

"Nandini, what's wrong?" I was a millisecond away from retorting with something rude but felt disappointed in myself. Since when had I become so... unlike myself? What happened to giving him, or anyone for that matter, the benefit of doubt? Why was I so bothered by it?

And if I was so annoyed, it would make the most sense to tell it straight-up, right? Why beat around the bush?

Yes, I would tell him.

"Why didn't you come outside and have dinner with us? Alia and Dhruv came."

"I'm not very good with Aunties," He said, with a chuckle.

"Okay," I turned, and he nudged me again.

"Why are you upset?" Because he was not putting effort to get to know the little bit of family I have left.

But I had forgotten, what family is to me is not the same for him. He has a different relationship with his parental figures. As such he has a lot going on, and I wanted to be the last person to add to his problems. I wanted to be quite the opposite, his support system.

He was no longer mischievous, or sly. His fingers were restless, nails piercing into the other palm, unaware that he was hurting himself.

I cupped the inflicting hand, warm to the touch, separating them. Smiling, I said, "I'm not," I sat down on the beanbag by his feet, dragging him with me. "Eat now, it's almost 9pm," I said, reaching out for the plate.

He saw the packet, ripped into the foil and peeled off a piece. "Did you make them?" He asked, enthused.

After a short pause, I said, "No,"

He wrapped a chunk of the potato curry with it and threw it in his mouth.

As he chewed, he leaned back on the chair satisfied. "Hmm... that's yummy!" "You're lucky you get to eat this kind of tasty food everyday." The statement that he said so casually as he indulged another piece wrenched me. Perhaps there is nobody to look after him the way Chikkamma and Chikkappa, or even Ammamma, looks after us. All this while, I've been complaining about not having my parents around, when Manik and Mukti have parents who are never around.

"Do you like dosa?"

"Are you kidding? I love any kind of food, especially anything with chicken! Our bai at home," Bai? "–sorry, cook–" He corrected, rubbing his nose, "she makes a few South Indian dishes here and there!"

"Oh really?"

"Mmm... You know what though?" I leaned in, curious to hear. He chewed faster, "I want to try your food, as in food you cook,"

I rubbed my palms in circular motions over my knees, biting my lip. "We don't eat chicken though, in fact I've never had any meat, don't know what it tastes like!"

Manik scrutinised, and then snapped his fingers, "Right! 'Religious'," He air-quoted, throwing a cheeky smile right after.

"Stop it!" I nagged, rolling my eyes while silently enjoying his calming presence.