Kaynath kept looking at her Casio watch repeatedly, and not listening to a word they were saying. The cool metal wrapped around her wrist caused a band of sweat on the edges as she panicked.

There was a guy on the opposite end of the couch and kept glancing at her with a soft smile. His parents chatted with hers and then after a while, her mother elbowed her.

"Huh?" she asked, blinking a few times to clear her head.

"Why don't you chat with Raheem? While we figure some things out," she smiled towards his family but as soon as she got up to leave, her mother tugged on the end of her hijab.

She raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Please try, one time," her mom pleaded silently with her eyes. She didn't really need to communicate with words, as they shared the same gift: culinary arts. Food and sweets made a huge impact on both of them and the food they created; it mostly gave each other abilities to gauge emotions if either had the other's meals just hours before.

It was a weird trait but oh well. Just like customers came complaining of sour payasams not because it had gone stale but because her mood had been sour when she made it once.

2 p.m. It was just after lunch. If she didn't leave now, she wouldn't be able to make it for Mirza's appointment. She did promise her she'd be there, especially after she told her her close friend probably couldn't make it. She even set up five alarms so she wouldn't forget it and be on time.

They went up to the balcony and he looked at her expectantly. He was dressed in a white button down shirt and black jeans.

She sighed. A new day and a new person to disappoint.

"I know our parents seem to agree on this, but I don't," he smiled and looked ahead, leaning against the dangerously low wall. It made her heart leap and she felt her pulse quicken.

"Could you um, get away from the wall? It's very low and you could fall over."

He pushed back and moved a little further away. "Afraid of heights?"

"Kinda. I know it's weird," she laughed a little nervously and then remembered what he said. "Wait."

"Yeah."

"You don't want this, at all?"

"Nope," he shook his head, dark curls bouncing around. "I actually have two partners."

"Oh." She was a little stunned to speak, but was extremely glad about the prospect of not having to convince yet another person.

"Yeah," he laughed with glee. "I suppose you're either shocked by this or are actually interested in me."

"The former..." she trailed away. "You can have multiple partners?"

"Sure, if everyone's okay with it. The people involved, I mean."

"Oh," she said, again.

Dating itself had seemed such a foreign concept to her. She took too long to make connections, and when she did, they faded out of her life.

"You don't date?" he inquired.

"I did, once and then..." she paused. "It didn't last. And then I didn't find anyone I liked, so."

It was a little weird opening up about her past love, but she probably wouldn't see him again, so what did it matter, anyways? She was curious because love never seemed like anything she'd seen or read about.

"Is it...is it nice, having two people?" she inquired, a little sheepishly, staring at the floor and then at him.

"I mean, yeah. You get double the love, but also this means you have to share more," he gave her an assuring smile.

"I see," was all she could come up with, her thoughts jumbled.

As she went downstairs, Raheem shaking his head, and his parents giving simultaneously patronising but sympathetic looks as though it were their loss, which was probably what Raazi, Kaynath's mother felt, she felt one weight lift off and another settle in. Doubts crept in, but about what, she had no idea.

"Should we be updating her profile on the matrimonial site?" her mom chimed in, bringing her back to reality by touching her shoulder.

"Umma, please," she rubbed her temple. "Is this even necessary? I'll find someone on my own, thank you."

"You say that since two years! And where are the people? Huh?" she scolded Kaynath, sighing.

"I just, am not interested at the moment," she leaned into the couch, hoping it swallowed her.

"Uppa has been asking," she whispers, conspiratorially.

"Then tell Uppa that I'm not interested at all. Also isn't this so someone takes over the business? I can handle it just fine," she snaps a little.

"Sweetie, no," her mother chides her, stroking her hair. The supposed affection irritates her even more so and she removes her hand and stands up. Kaynath sees the hurt look on her face but presses on.

"I have to go somewhere, I told my friend I'd be there for her appointment," she made a beeline for the kitchen and searched for the medium sized dark purple paper boxes where Kulsum's Confectionery was neatly embossed onto it in Silver. It had been her idea to include the dark colour with silvery text, to show premium quality and she was quite proud of it.

She put butter paper in it and packed ladoos in one box and tucked it into her purse, and then proceeded with the gulab jamuns. Lifting them delicately from the steel vessel with a ladle, she packed them in plastic containers and watched them bob a little in the sugar syrup.

Her mother muttered something inaudible under her breath and then returned to looking at suitable grooms.

Grooms with degrees, grooms with well off families, ones with no terrible history, Kaynath could go on forever. She didn't know how she avoided the last two years of proposals but still, twenty-five was a young age, and she was not ready. She didn't think she ever would be, the prospect of putting your life on hold, and throwing caution to the wind as you promised forevers? That was such a scam.

To be fair she didn't even know what she would do if her parents expected her to-be-suitor to handle the business. She couldn't handle a day sitting idly.

It would be a game changer if they found someone whose gift was culinary arts though— they might tell her to rest. And she couldn't have that. She walked briskly, her body trying to pace faster than her mind. It helped, sometimes.

She waved her hand, flagging down the auto and told the address.

"A hundred rupees? No. Make it eighty and run the meter," she bargained.

The auto driver looked slightly irritated but agreed nevertheless, switching on the metre reading. When she reached her destination, she found out she was right and let out a small whoop of joy in her head.

"Eighty rupees is just fine, like I said," she smiled a wolf's grin.

People did always try to dupe her, for some reason, until she started bargaining and speaking in Malayalam. She had heard tons of them charge double or triple the price to foreigners and even try it with Keralites who came from abroad.

She scanned the place for Mirza and then saw her tall frame, arms gesturing all over the place, her back to her. She was talking to someone, and ruffling their hair, but Kaynath couldn't spot her from this distance.

The other girl mentioned something and moved further away, turning around the corner. She was already gone by the time Kaynath reached Mirza.

"How are you doing?" Kayanth asked her, eyes softening a tad little.

"Alright. I've been coming here for two years and yet I get a little nervous every time."

Kaynath nodded, not knowing what to say. She shifted closer, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "It'll be okay. I'll be here, and we can go get some food?"

"That sounds amazing."

"I got you a box of gulab jamuns too."

"A total sweetheart," Mirza chuckled, wrapping her free arm around Kaynath's waist.

There was a beat of comfortable silence, which none of them dared break. Mirza kept glancing at the clock, waiting for her turn, as Kaynath kept bouncing her leg, chewing on her lower lip.

"My parents want me to get married. Soon," she sighed.

Mirza whipped around to look at her. "What? For real?"

"Yeah, it's...something. I don't know what's the rush, honestly," she shook her head, melancholy settling in.

"Would they not approve of...someone you like?"

Kaynath didn't say anything for a long time. "Well. I don't know if I'd actually find someone I really like, soon enough. I don't know."

She twisted the water bottle in her hand, looking intensely at it, as though it would give her answers.

"I don't know if I want someone. Does that make sense?" she looked up at Mirza worriedly.

"Like...you don't want to actively pursue someone?" she questioned, frowning, trying to work out Kaynath's mind.

"Yeah. Something like that. If someone I do like comes along—"

"Number twenty-two, please!" a nurse came out and called, scanning the waiting room.

Mirza got up, laying a palm on Kaynath's wrist. "We'll talk when I'm back."

She nodded, giving her a thumbs up, before settling comfortably in the seat. To be frank, it wasn't all that comfortable. The steel chair poked her back and she kept shifting around, crossing her legs over one other, till suddenly the nerves took over and she stood up, locking eyes with a curly haired woman, with dark eyes brooding into her.

"What are you doing here?"

Anya stood before her, a cup of coffee in one hand, and the other, smoothing down the wrinkles of her sage green button down shirt.

"I'm here for Mirza," Kaynath said, very slowly.

"You know her?" Anya asked her incredulously, looking around. "Mirza went in?"

"Oh, you know her then."

"Excuse me, I'm her best friend," Anya huffed. "I went to get some coffee."

"Looks like you're a little late for your best friend's appointment," Kaynath inspected her red nails, rearranging the purse on her shoulder.

Anya seethed. Kaynath could see it so clearly; the girl was an open book and her nostrils flared, her right hand clenching her blue jeans, the styrofoam cup being squeezed ever so slightly. She would probably be spilling the contents if she did that any further.

Kaynath reached out and patted her cheek. "I'm sorry. I guess you didn't expect another thing to be taken away from you, did you?"

With great resolve, Anya steadied her breathing and took a step back, Kaynath's hand falling away.

"We've been friends for years. Don't think a simple interaction would mean anything."

Kaynath heard her voice shake a little. "Maybe. Who knows? Maybe she just didn't tell you we were dating?"

"Wow."

They both whipped their heads to find Mirza staring at them, an unreadable expression on her face. She didn't look surprised or happy or sad and Kaynath felt a little bad. Then again, it was Anya who came in here and started shit.

She saw Mirza run out and turned to Anya.

"Oh my god. You ruin everything, don't you?" she spat, her eyes glittering with malice. 

***

Glossary:

Umma: mother (basically in Malayalam it is Amma, but there are slang/dialect differences to the language  in each district and Kaynath is from a district in Kerala where it's predominantly muslim based and they use Umma and Uppa instead of Amma and Acha, respectively). 

Uppa: father. 

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