Countries were falling to their knees.

Soldiers were dying. Nations were drenched in blood. The world was on fire. Some surrendered, some fist bumped the air. Some of them killed themselves, while the others came back shattered. Some, like Subhash Chandra Bose never returned.

Very few were honoured for their shameless victory of spilling blood.

Gandhi was no longer in prison. He attempted yet another charge for the British to Quit India, and they swiftly refused. There were growing tensions between the Hindu and Muslim Political Parties. The League was still demanding a new country, a broken part of land.

The world was slowly settling, things were becoming quiet, uncomfortably. Several predicted that the war was coming to a climax. And hence, India striked back while the iron was hot. The British were weaker and unresolved. There was already building pressure. Lord Wavell, the Viceroy of India called upon the Indian National Congress and Muslim League in Shimla to discuss the self-government of India. A month later in July, Great Britain organized their general elections which gave rise to their Labour Party.

Rumour had it, that they wanted to "hand India back to the Indians".

The unrest was being broadcasted in the Azad Hind Radio. Recently, Anita would be glued to it too, not alone - it was only with Adrith she'd listen to the news. The freedom of the entire nation was something she didn't give too much thought to. She was so much more preoccupied with her own freedom struggle.

She'd heard more about Rudra than Rudra had even known her. "He was like a shadow!" He exclaimed at her. "He'd follow me everywhere I'd go. He didn't like me going to school and leaving him alone. When he grew a little, he began fidgeting with my school equipments. Maa had to hold him to let me study in peace."

Anita could sense the happiness gleaming from Adrith's eyes, the natural smile that plastered itself on his face and lit it up whenever he mentioned his brother. She already liked Rudra, perhaps was even a little bit envious. Being a boy, she thought, he had an amazing elder brother, more like a father figure.

They were sitting on a boulder with Anita holding a flask of chai. Adrith had brought with him a packet of Glucose-D biscuits from the shopkeeper nearby. He was dipping it in the cup from the flask, with a light brown liquid that wafted of cardamom, ginger, cinnamon sticks and thick milk. The tea was strong, just like he liked it. It was early evening, the teatime he usually spent with his brother, now he did with Anita.

She was unknown to these things, the way that Adrith was drifting apart from his family. She had no clue that every moment spent with her, was another moment he was without them. She was usually just satisfied and happy to listen to Adrith tell his stories about his childhood and family. She had vomited out her own story to him long ago, but he had so much more to tell.

Unknowingly and unwillingly, she had crafted herself into the frame, while altogether cast the family out of it.

"Shit!" Adrith suddenly yelled. Concern grew on Anita's face and she looked at him in questioning, while he was getting into his kolhapuri slippers. He rearranged his muslin dhoti and said, "Maa-Baba are out. I have the house key on me and Rudra must've come home already!" He quickly picked up his new bicycle lying on the ground behind the boulder. Anita only ran behind him, quietly, and without asking or saying anything sat on the metal holder behind him on the bicycle, her legs dangling on the left side, her feet tight and toes tangled to make sure the slippers didn't fall.

Adrith dropped her by the main road of the city, a yard behind her house so no-one from her family could see her. She then walked home and Adrith sneaked a peck to her cheek and drifted off, leaving her flushed and red.

When Adrith returned home, chest heaving and head dripping with sweat from the heat, his legs slightly cramped up due to the vigorous footwork to reach home at the earliest, he saw two men sitting at the stairs of the building his family lived in. He hit the breaks of his man-forced vehicle and stood right in front of them. Their heads raised to see him, their eyes squinting from the yet bright sunlight.

One of them was his brother but he couldn't recognize the other man. He wiped his forehead with the back of his palm and got off the bicycle, holding it still. "Sorry, got caught up in work."

"I figured," replied Rudra, standing up and so did his friend beside him. "That's why my friend insisted on waiting with me until you came."

Adrith shifted his gaze to the man standing beside his brother. He was thin, had no facial hair and his shoulders were scrunched up. He was as tall as his brother, perhaps an inch or so taller.

"That's my brother," Rudra told his friend gesturing towards Adrith. "And he's my classmate, Wasay."

Adrith's face fell. His expression was more pinched, his lips forming a line of disapproval. A muslim boy? he thought.

Wasay put his hand forward for a formal greeting, almost as if he was oblivious to the cold unwelcoming expression. He beamed nevertheless, either ignoring Adrith's expression or used to such greetings.

Adrith looked down and narrowed his eyes. He looked back up, and then after a second or so gave the guest a handshake. He then gave his brother the same look of disapproval and walked towards the stairs leading to their house.

"You must join us for tea," Adrith heard Rudra's voice say and he froze on the spot, with his heavy bicycle in hands, his nose flaring with anger. What is he thinking?

"No, no. I must be going home now," Wasay replied.

"Oh no, please. It's just tea. Maa is not home so you're not as lucky, but I can brew a good masala chai," Rudra insisted. "Come on, I owe you that much for waiting with me."

Wasay opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. He didn't want to be impolite as if, to not say yes, and Adrith could as if see everything with eyes behind his head. There was silence for a moment, except for the noise of the city, a scrap dealer screaming "Ayye Bhangar wale" pulling on his hand cart, the bells on the cycles passing by going "tringg...tringg" and some sparrows in the evening finding shelter for the night, chirping loudly.

Suddenly, piercing the silence, Adrith said impatiently, "You should come." and went on climbing the stairs and unlocking the door to the house. Rudra nodded at his friend and they both then climbed the stairs as well, their slippers echoing slaps throughout the building corridor.

They removed their slippers outside and walked in. Rudra quickly helped his friend wash his hands by pouring water from a mug in the bathroom. He then went into the kitchen while Adrith sat on cold tiles, and Wasay joined him there.

While Rudra was brewing the tea and spices, there was a bit of silence in the house because Adrith had decided to use silence as a weapon and tool to indicate that he was basically not interested in talking to someone he didn't want to welcome in their home in the first place. Pigeons piled up in the balcony as usual and Wasay looked at them with a smile. While they cooed at each other, he reciprocated with a few clicks by his tongue. The birds flew away.

"Rudra talks a lot about you," the guest broke the silence.

Adrith let out a loud sigh, and for a moment sucked his lips between his teeth, his chin and mouth now one. But then he replied, "You must be good friends if Rudra is comfortable enough to talk about his family with you."

He is taken aback by that statement, but then replies, "Oh, we sit together on the same bench in class."

Adrith only nodded. His brother brought the tea on a steel plate for a tray and handed the cups to the guest first and then his brother. He served some leftover sweets for accompaniment. About fifteen minutes passed silently, perhaps bitterly. The only noise present was the flapping of the bird's wings and loud slurping of tea. When everyone was done with their drinks and bites, Wasay stood up.

"I must leave now."

"Oh. Of course. It will get dark in some time," replied Rudra.

He picked his bag up from a corner of the hall and swung it over his shoulder cockily. "Thank you for having me."

He went passed the open door and hopped down the stairs, loudly.