Varkey wasn't there that day, or the next one. Forty-eight hours of relentlessly thinking about it burned a hole in her mind so much that even her dreams were filled with him, smiling, granting the keys and paperwork and Kaynath, helpless, her mouth gaping open like a dead fish.

Two days of homemade ghee, butter and payasam that she could smell from the floor above made her weak in the knees and almost made her give it up. She spotted Kaynath busy in the restaurant a floor above, the glass doors providing a perfect view for her jealousy to brew hotter than her grandmother's spicy fish curry.

Kaynath walked briskly, a note in one hand and directing people to instructions as she gestured wildly. The sunlight caught her yellow dress and she looked down, arms crossed, eyes piercing Anya.

Anya looked back, defiant as Kaynath shook her head in contempt. She could almost hear her voice. Petty child, aren't you?

Kaynath leant forward, her chin propped up on palm in amusement as she lifted the other hand, beckoning her to come in. To be frank, Anya was sweating, the sun slit through her eyes making her squint at Kaynath.

She kicked at the marble tile as she rounded the corner and went up the stairs as Kaynath turned around to face her. "Finally come in, huh?"

"Only for some A.C. Don't get any ideas," she blew a strand of hair out of her face and untied her hair, shrugging it loose as Kaynath watched waist length curls bounce before she tied it into a bun again.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," she chuckled. "Sweets?"

Anya shrugged. "As long as they don't have raisins."

"Insane. All of them do," she gasped, a hand over her chest in mock horror. "Have a ladoo."

Anya grabbed the orange laddoo and broke off a chunk and inspected it closely and finding no raisin, bit into it. She closed her eyes, the soft delicate sweet crumbling and melting in her mouth instantly. She opened her eyes to find Kaynath staring at her inquisitively as she leant on the table, arms crossed.

"Huh," she said with an intense look.

"What is it?" Anya swallowed the ladoo and felt her breath catch, her anxiety bubbling up,

"I can sense your feelings from here you know?" she mused, eyes twinkling, one hand playing with the end of her yellow floral hijab.

"From eating your desserts?" Anya questioned and then immediately regretted it as she felt embarrassment crawl up her skin like earthworms.

"Well yea, you know this is my special gift. So," she shrugged. "I can sense your emotions if you're close enough in my vicinity."

"I honestly thought it was the opposite. Huh," Anya frowned. "Culinary people imbibing their feelings into food, affecting the taste and all."

Anya wondered if the sweet, soft dessert that melted in her mouth and brought her instant relief meant that Kaynath also felt the same while making it. Relief and the first spell of cold rain on a hot summer day. She felt her cheeks burn for an unknown reason.

"Goes both ways," she said. "My mom has the former and I have more of the latter."

Kaynath was amused as she smirked and Anya panicked even more. "What, why are you smiling...like that?"

"So you just want to do something of your own and start a business, is it?"

Anya felt herself close in on itself like morning glories when the sun set. Oh, stop it. What did you expect?

"Did you ask me to come in here to mock me?" she looked away. Her heart stung and she saw Venus fly traps line the wall quickly closing in on Kaynath.

Kaynath shrieked as Anya watched in wild fascination. "Oooh, that's new."

"Jesus, would you stop that?" she scurried off to a corner and Anya let a guffaw escape, beating the nearby table with her palm as she coughed and laughed. They were accelerating towards her, mouths open, ready to pounce on their meal.

"Relax, they can't hurt humans," Anya giggled, brushing a stray curl away from her face.

"They look devious and twice the size as a normal one," she cowered in fear and wrapped her arms around her knees. The fly traps retreated and Anya walked towards one as it stretched towards her. She put her finger in its mouth as it snapped shut and she chuckled again. "See? No harm done. They're kinda ticklish. Wanna try?"

"No thanks," she snapped and dusted herself off, straightening up to her full height. Anya barely reached up to her chest and she felt kind of intimidated by her stature. She wouldn't let it ever show though. She looked back defiantly. "This is how you deal with emotions, is it?"

Anya felt her fingers grip the table and almost flipped it over. Almost. She didn't though and she would come to regret it later. "It's not in my control."

A sad pathetic excuse.

Kaynath shook her head. "You're terribly shit at your gift. How sad is that?"

"Not as sad as never trying anything new and just taking over family business," Anya muttered, loud enough for her to hear as Kaynath went still.

Anya turned on her heel and walked away. She needed to let out steam.

***

She didn't go home for lunch. That was her second mistake. She had no clue whether her best friend had leftovers or extra food. It was sweltering and lunch time was already past. 3:13p.m.

She came to a stop in front of a small shop tucked in between an apartment and a shoe store. The boutique was colourful, even from the outside, a simple white elegant signboard with cursive writing of Mehr's Boutique printed neatly on it. The room was split into two, with the boutique on one side with colourful racks of gowns, fancy kurtis and sarees that were separated by type and material. Several staff had pulled out organza and Kanchipuram sarees and were showing them to customers, while others were arranging a sequinned embellished lehenga on a mannequin. The other half consisted of a mini salon where hair and makeup was taken care off.

There she was, blow drying someone's hair as they chatted animatedly and Mirza responded in wide gestures too, her big expressive eyes excited. She noticed a motion out of the corner of her eye and turned off the blow dryer, letting the client know as she spotted Anya and rushed towards her.

"Babe!" she hollered, crushing in a hug, and Anya felt herself melt in her arms. She smelled of coconut oil and jasmines and she inhaled it softly as she buried her face in her chest.

"Taking full advantage of my boobs," she joked.

Anya wrenched herself away and felt her cheeks burn, swatting her arm. "Oh c'mon. Your hugs are the best."

She bit her lip, as Mirza looked at her intensely, and Anya swore she forgot how to breathe then. Her legs would give away if Mirza kept looking at her like that.

"You had sweets?" she leant forward and brushed the crumbs with her thumb, her hand lingering as she smiled wide, exposing her pearly whites.

"Yeah, a ladoo," she muttered, twisting Mirza's hand away and intertwining her fingers with Mirza's.

"You seem out of it. Oh, just a minute. Shazia!" She cupped her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice and then walked away as a brown haired woman with leopard print glasses looked up.

She discussed something with her and then took Anya's hand, pulling her out of the shop. "Told Shazia to take care of customers for a while. Let's go to my apartment?"

"Yeah, sure," she laid her head on Mirza as Anya looped her arm through hers.

"Is everything okay?" Mirza asked her, patting her head and ruffling her curls. A few of them slipped out from her bun. She didn't have the energy to re-tie it and accepted the head pats, melting slightly.

"Not really, Varkey isn't here and well, things aren't going as I hoped," she sighed, looking up at Mirza.

"Ah, I see," she paused, letting go of Anya's hand to unlock the door to her apartment. She didn't say anything else and Anya removed her sandals, keeping them on the shoe rack, before dusting her feet on the Fork Off carpet.

"Shouldn't you be getting a more welcoming mat? It's so out of tune with your personality?" she questioned, breathing a sigh of relief as she made her way into the kitchen.

"Hey! I am trying to be mean, okay?" Mirza huffed out her chest. "This is one of them."

"It's totally working," she snorted, as she grabbed a steel glass and hunted for the clay pot storing water. She gulped two glasses down, wiping sweat from her brow. The cold water energised her.

Anya hummed a tune to the song, Parayuvan as she opened the fridge and scanned it.

"Top rack behind the leftover food. Steel kalam," Mirza chuckled. "You're a whore for this, aren't you?"

"It's the best!" she took out the kalam, and fished a spoon from the cutlery rack and dipped the spoon in, scooping out a large chunk of cold cream. Mirza hated plain cream and always skimmed it out from the top of milk and left it for Anya. Anya's eyes lit up as she grabbed sugar and mixed it and gobbled it happily.

She caught Mirza looking at her and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Just thinking about you probably love that more than me," she rolled her eyes in mock annoyance.

Anya gasped. "How dare you? Of course I love parippu payasam more."

"Too bad there isn't a pillow here I could chuck at you," she walked out into the living room. Mirza's apartment was huge, but only because she filled it with fancy things she bought impulsively. A teapoy with glass pane was at the very front in the room and two sofas were laid out in an L-shape. There were a few photo frames adorning the wall of her and her mom.

It was the kitchen that was the true treasure trove. She had stocked up on every kind of spoon and cutlery, from the little round spoons to the huge ladles to sporks. Sporks were useless in Anya's opinion but to Mirza they were cute and she had to get them.

There was a rustle as someone stepped out from the bedroom and Anya nearly dropped the kalam. "Oh my god, someone's in your-"

Mirza turned around and gasped as Anya grabbed the nearest weapon which turned out to be a candle stand and pointed it at the person. They turned around to meet her eyes and laughed out loud, holding their belly.

"Can't believe you wouldn't give up food if an intruder comes in," she wiped tears from her eyes, pointing at the kalam clutched tight under Anya's arm.

"Meera? Meera!" she hollered, brisk walking to give her a half hug. "I didn't know you were back from America!"

She finally set down the kalam and the candle stand on the teapoy and gave her a proper hug. She turned to Mirza. "Dude, did you lock her in and go back to the shop?"

"Well, not really, she came around and felt dizzy so I sent her here. How long was I gone?"

Meera checked her watch. "Half an hour. It's fine, I laid down for a bit until I heard the commotion."

"Oh my god, you didn't even treat our friend properly!?" Anya shook Mirza violently as Mirza held onto her.

"I gave her a mango lassi and then she wanted to lie down. Forgive me?" Mirza pouted at Anya, her lashes fluttering, leaning close.

"Overdid it," she piped back, stepping away, her heart beating frantically, yet again. She cleared her throat. "We have a lot to catch up on."

Meera nodded. "I know. My mom just called me though, so we'll have to do that later."

"Aw, alright. See you soon," she waved as Meera kissed her cheek, before stepping out.

Anya took the kalam again as Mirza went to the bedroom to change into comfortable clothes. She followed her, the cold cream melting in her mouth and providing her relief from the sweltering heat.

Mirza didn't even bother to go to the bathroom to change and Anya only realised this a moment later as she took off her kurti, her back to her, standing in jeans and a black bra.

She swore loudly and rushed out of the room, her cheeks on fire as she paced the kitchen. She totally didn't see anything, nope. She put her face in her hands, sighing, trying not to imagine what it would feel like to stroke her curvy hips and how soft her skin would be.

Anya had never minded before, though. Not through high school. In fact, she was glad that Mirza was comfortable enough around her to change, and switch between high and low pitched voices. Until a day came when she realised Mirza always caught her teasing about staring, she was almost always at her place, and they hung out nearly every day and she felt her heart malfunction every time they were physically close.

"I thought you might want to change too," Mirza came out, frowning. Her hair was wet as she wrapped it in a towel. She was dressed in a tie-dye t-shirt and shorts that showed off her generous curves. "I kept clothes out for you on the bed, if you want to."

Anya took a bath and changed clothes, trying to rid her mind of the image but failed miserably. Mirza was flicking through shows as she came out. She patted the couch and had switched on the A.C, covered in a blanket. Anya shivered slightly, shaking her wet hair and splattering Mirza with water droplets.

"Hey! No fair. You're literally like a wet puppy," she wrapped an arm around her as Anya got under the covers and felt warmth seep into her.

She was cushioned in Mirza's soft arms and laid her head on her chest as they kissed the top of her head.

"So, rom-com or?"

"I say we watch The Good Place, all over again," Anya responded, munching on the popcorn. "Or old Malayalam movies."

"Please, we already watched that two weeks ago," Mirza groaned. "Can we just watch horror for once?"

Anya gasped. "You know I hate it. But alright, no gore."

She flicked until she found Misery and put it on. "You'll love this, I promise."

"I swear I've seen this woman elsewhere," she muttered.

"Yeah, she's in Titanic."

Anya jumped up, pumping her fist into the air. "I knew it."

"You say that like you've just had a big revelation."

"I totally did, and I'm cool." Her face suddenly soured and she grimaced. "Can't believe you mixed pineapple and popcorn in this bowl."

"What? I get something nice to chew every time popcorn gets stuck in my teeth," they popped another pineapple piece in.

"Seriously," Anya plopped back down. "It eats you back, you know that right?"

"Nope, but I love sore throats. Although, I suppose you can have sore throats from other things," she wiggled her eyebrows and Anya groaned.

"Do you ever get tired of making everything dirty?"

"Never, how else is life supposed to be fun?" Mirza pointed to the T.V. "Watch movie now and shush."

Anya couldn't shut up of course. "Can't believe she kidnapped him to write a story? Seriously?"

"Some people are passionate."

"Darn it, she is versatile," Anya replied, staring intensely as Mirza wrapped an arm around her waist which sent tingles up her spine.

"I know. It's better than most horror movies I've made you watch, right?" Mirza laughed as Anya nodded in compliance.

"I actually liked this one. Oh, don't we have an appointment for you in an hour?"

"Yeah. Oh, and I'm bringing a friend, I thought you wouldn't be able to make it. Is that okay?"

"Sure," Anya said feebly, but she hated the prospect of new people. "But it means interacting with them."

"Oh, I think you two will get along well."

***
Glossary: 

kalam: a pot (made from clay, steel or aluminium). The ones we use for storing milk and such are usually steel pots. 

parippu payasam: It's is a sweet dish and a type of wet pudding popular in the Indian subcontinent, usually made by boiling milk, sugar or jaggery, and rice, although rice may be substituted with one of the following: daals, bulgur wheat, millet, tapioca, vermicelli, or sweet corn. Parippu refers to lentils so this one is lentil payasam. 

***

This week's recommendation is Till The Hawk Moth Flies by -dreamsinwords ! 

After her silent vengeance culminates in a violent last battle, Selvali stands amidst the deadly silence of her fathers' desolate empire in Ghonami. Desolate, until a mangled, trembling hand rises from beneath the bodies — and a face looks up. A face of a person who, in just a fleeting few days, would force Selvali to face her past, her pain, and her deepest fears.

The face of Erappuyal, the cursed clairvoyant.