This week, I've seen the sudden loss of my favourite aunty and said my goodbyes to my chronically ill grandfather whose pain, God willing, will end today.

At this point, I am kind of scarred. I know he's lived his life and will be going to a better place. I think I am at least fortunate to have had the opportunity to seek closure but I am utterly devastated for my 20-year-old best friend who will never be able to seek the warmth of her Mumma's hugs ever again </3

So I wanted to write and share something hopeful, that reminds us to live in the present and take things one day at a time. Let me know how you feel about it (I hope this part is entertaining either way)

𓆩𓆪

Navya went around the table, unloading the stack of plates she hugged at her hip as she placed one at each chair. She had made it a point to mindfully spend her last few dinners in her childhood home, a home they were going to leave forever for the sake of a full-time job.

It had not occurred to her how much of her life she was leaving behind until Nandini had come over directly from the airport to see her. The two friends chatted away as if time they spent apart had never dented their beautiful friendship that bloomed in their diaper days. Decades of memories were condensed into a simple, bittersweet conversation that had shaken the two-braided woman.

Her phone rang as she filled the glasses her father had set at the table. She abandoned her task and wiped her hands on the edge of her dupatta, in the same way she did as a child with her mother's garments.

Mrs. Naveli scolded her for leaving midway and getting so easily distracted for her age. She also did not hesitate to drop in a comment about lowered attention spans in teenagers these days because of reels and shorts, which led to their addictions to their phones.

Navya ignored the snarky comments as she made her way to the coffee table, where her mobile was.

It was from Nandini's Chachi.

"Namaste Chachi, kaisi ho aap? Aaj aap humaare ghar kyoon nahi aayi?" She interrogated cheekily in her customary dramatic tone. On hearing the caller being Nandini's Chachi, Navya's mother's irritation came down a few notches. She undeniably had a soft corner for the girl who lost her parents to unfortunate circumstances.

Chachi crackled through the receiver, palpably tensed. "Navya beta, we've been trying to reach Nandini all evening. Uska phone nahi lag raha hai. Woh tumhare saath hai kya?"

Nandini wasn't home yet?

Navya pulled her phone away from her ear, murmuring to herself that the time was just past seven. Nandini had left her house nearly two hours ago, and presently it had gotten dark outside as well. Her mind raced at the possibilities, setting off a series of panic-stricken breaths within her, but she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn't let her anxieties show... especially not to Nandini's family.

Her voice wavered. "Haan, woh... woh kya hai na, Nandini Soha ke ghar gayi hai. Shayad uski phone battery chali gayi hogi. Hum bhi dinner karke wahi jaane wale the, toh..." Navya received a playful slap from her mother at the spontaneous plan she had made and conveniently forgotten to inform her own family itself.

Twitching at the impact, Navya moved away and continued speaking, "I'll make sure she gets your message when I reach, okay?"

On the other end of the line, Chachi sighed with audible relief. Even though the information was passed to her from a trustworthy source, she knew she couldn't take a moment's rest until she heard her niece's voice on the phone. "Acchha... thanks beta. Woh kya hai, itni raat ho gayi hai and usne airport aane ko bhi mana kar diya toh, upar se you know na kuch mahino se hi uska mood kitna down hai toh, we were just worried... please make sure she calls me as soon as you meet, haan?"

Gulping at the deceptive excuse she had cooked up, Navya froze in her spot. She was doing a terrible thing – no, the most terrible thing – by lying to Nandini's family. Yet, a part of her was trying to do the right thing and spare them of unnecessary worry. Worry that she was willing to shoulder on herself instead. In a tone as reassuring as possible, she said, "Of course, Chachi. You take care, and tell Chacha I said namaste."

As the call dropped, Navya's mother bombarded her with questions about when Navya was going to tell her mother about this post-dinner catch-up with the girls. Her daughter had been distracted with something else and had shrugged the question away as she retreated to the balcony.

Outside, the evening air was chilly and frightening. Impulsively, she touched the curve in her collarbone where her Matarani locket usually sat. Her deity would not let anything happen to her friend. Reassured by her own faith in her God, she shut the glass door behind her and muted herself from her family while she dialled the number of a saviour of the hour.

𓆩𓆪

Even though their hands brushed against the railing rather than each other, the handsome yet morally flawed Hulk and the unyielding bubble of innocence were within a carefully negotiated proximity – a foot distance of each other.

The corridor of the bungalow was saturated with a subtle magnetic blend of his cologne emanating both from his exposed muscular build and his red shirt that clung to the petite woman. Magical hints of her fruity leave-in conditioner interlocked with his distinct scent, symbolising the uniquely compatible union of Manik and Nandini as they bounced down the stairway.

Nandini began striding along peacefully, two steps ahead of him, and was feeling every step beneath her feet carefully before descending on it. The last thing she had wanted was to tumble down a fleet and further injure herself, which would put her more at his mercy. After all the kidnapping and meticulously manipulative tactics he deployed to keep her under his control, how he even agreed to take her outside was beyond her imagination.

She thought about the brighter side of it; she could eat anything she wished for.

What did she feel like having? Maybe she could ask him to take her to her favourite ninety-nine variety dosa stall near the city centre and stuff herself with some crispy masala dosas and Udupi sambar.

Salivating at the idea, she wanted to look presentable for going out and tucked her hair away when the cuff of the shirt she was wearing brushed her face. His shirt. She could not go outside wearing that, and most of all, not to places that she was most familiar with.

What would passersby think if they saw her in a man's shirt? No, what would they think if they saw him shirtless and her wearing his shirt? That would rouse some scandalous suspicions within society.

Aiyappa, why in the world did she have to rip up her kurti? She palmed her face, cursing her stupidity while shaking her head.

Her movement wafted the scent of her conditioner some metres behind her. She had probably washed her hair in the morning before flying out on the plane, which would have easily been sometime past noon. Manik had kept a die-hard foodie running around with him without a single snack in her belly for nearly a quarter of the day.

As he slammed the callouses of his palm on the railing out of frustration at himself, it snapped her out of her thoughts, and she clung to the metal bar tightly to stabilise herself.

He, too, had paused a couple of ledges above hers, maintaining their one-foot distance clause: no closer, no farther. "Kya hua, why do you seem stressed?" She asked softly to the surrounding space.

Her words cut through the uncomfortable tension he was feeling within himself since the time the mansion's light shut out. The reassuring sound of her seemed to wipe away the pitch-black void around them and instead wrapped him in a protective sheath of warmth and vibrancy.

In split-seconds, his restless gaze that tracked the walls, their vicinity, and the ceiling and focused on any specks of light in the confinement transformed into an admiring one affixed to her back.

Something tugged at his heart.

"I am not stressed. I just – I don't like darkness."

Sensing some masked vulnerability behind that candid phrase, Nandini resumed her walk. The pads of her fingers stroked the railing with a grazing sound, eradicating the silence, as Manik followed her footsteps. Perhaps until they reached a source of light, she could keep him distracted by talking.

"Iss ghar mein lights achanak aise band kaise ho gaye?" She pondered out loud.

She had started a conversation on her own, he didn't have to make a snarky remark or do something that would irritate her in order to incite a chat. Brimming with hope that things could finally become normal between the two of them, Manik gently added, "Kya pata, the house owner must have not paid the electricity bill or something."

Huh?

"Matlab yeh ghar tumhara nahi hai?" As the words rolled out, she bit her tongue and scrunched her eyes shut.

Since the time they had made a compromise on the one-foot distance clause in the master bedroom upstairs, a part of her that had felt cooped up in his space and overthrown by a flight or fight response subconsciously disappeared. She didn't feel the need to fight; instead, she was taking it in good spirits that she had seized control of the situation and was leading life by her choices. Sure, he had presented the idea to her, but ultimately, it was her consent – her promise – that ruled.

Added to that mix was his compliance with her wishes. Those agreements itself had been a huge deal coming from someone like him who looked for opportunities to take advantage of her, but he had gone one step further in also confessing to a fear of his. That did not mean she could continue pushing his buttons or boundaries, especially not when she wasn't even aware of what those consequences could be.

Her body trembled at the thought.

Manik, however, had a completely different outlook on the whole scenario and was basking in the comforting balm of her light animated tone that distracted him from his fears. "You think I would ever live in such a hellhole? I mean, there are more colours in this house than in the rainbow, it's so obnoxious and clunky..."

On the last step of the staircase, Nandini moved to a side and unblocked Manik's path, surprised that the man who only hours ago demanded some peace and quiet in the car was not dismissing her or ignoring her.

He was chatting with her, at her level.

Not just giving one-word responses to her questions, he was vocalising his opinions with her.

Out of an unrestrained curiosity that was a characteristic trait of hers, she peered, "Really? Can you turn on your phone torch? I want to see it properly."

He promptly tended to her innocent request and flickered a light beam at the despicable living room, mildly registering that the time was 7:07.

"Itna bura bhi nahi hai, I mean... it's nice." Nandini said, trailing with the spotlight as the torch swayed and scanned the area that she didn't bother paying attention to while storming at him or punching him. She turned red, thinking about her unhinged bravery and the damage it caused him. How had she done that? 

Shaking her head, she further analysed the premises. "Haan, I guess the C-arrangement of those couches is old-fashioned and the living room is awkwardly spacious... but the wooden flooring and cream accents on the wall blend in with the taupe curtains nicely."

She briefly paused, not catching the slight frown on his features.

"Personally, I toh would definitely reposition the dining table closer to the kitchen, like in my house, lekin theek hai, compact sa ghar hota toh it would have fit in perfectly and proportionately, but this is –" Diverted by his phone screen that lit up briefly, as if he had pressed the 'lock' button to check the time, she realised she was earnestly rambling and possibly boring him to death with her speech.

Thoroughly flushed with embarrassment, Nandini concluded her monologue with, "Zyaada bol diya na... sorry." While she internally reprimanded herself for getting carried away, a hint of a smile appeared on his face.

The time was still 7:07... undoubtedly, the best minute of Manik's life.

His expression left her stunned. Did he perhaps realise her efforts to refocus his attention on something other than the surrounding darkness? Was that why he wasn't rude or angry with her? Could it be that kindness... was the solution to her problem?

Until then, she had been conflicted between treating society to a myriad of hints that could put her dignity on the line, and privately chalking out an understanding with he who had already snatched that from her. She massaged her hands, desperately trying to keep them busy.

"Kya hum... yahi pe kuch khaane ke liye bana sakte hai?"

And, as he unconditionally agreed, it so happened that her initial goal – to do anything she could to escape from him – was replaced by an odd resolve.

To bend her own approach to the current circumstances and seize control while leveraging the resources at hand.

Not by fighting it.

𓆩𓆪

While writing this, I could not help but constantly visualise the storeroom sequence on the show and them realising there's more to each other than what meets the eye.

This is the beginning of Manik and Nandini willing to put their differences aside, because 'shayad unke saath rehna itna bura bhi nahi hai', oh my, it's my Roman empire!

I'll update the next part soon as well, just trying to use these opportunities to keep myself sane <3

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