As the sun sets, the skies deepest secrets come to life.

None of them had realized, even though they saw her everyday, that their mother was growing older rapidly. Her face had begun to form thin and dry lines, as of a dried up river or the pattern of a dead tree. Her face was getting darker, hair greyer and teeth had already started vanishing.

Neither Rudra nor Adrith had ever felt the need to help her in the chores she ran through the house. Their duty towards her consisted of getting gas cylinders when she said, paying the bills on the right time and at times, accompanying her to the vegetable market or the temple nearby. On the weekdays, her husband would take her to a park situated in the city's lowland. But that was all she got as an outing.

As a mother and a wife, she'd accustomed herself to always serve, without any question, as she was trained to do ever since she was a child. One of her most favorite tasks to do was to prepare spices beforehand, cut meats on a cutter that'd be levered on a thick wooden plank. In the kitchen, she had two dibbis (boxes) with sections for all the spices with which she added aroma to the food.

The mother was obsessed with organizing.

The house would be swept clean, dusted, and left fragrant. Without a second thought, she'd clean her children's room as well, never really telling them to even fold a blanket. In the beginning, when they were small, she got tired easily. Her head would be drenched in sweat, a few drops creating a stream down her face and dripping off her chin. Some of them, she swallowed. She'd never complain though, and clean the sweat with the back of her wrists, holding the fall of her sari and tying it around her waist. Her bangles jingled loudly while cleaning.

When the father insisted on giving a helping hand, she'd retract it.

"No! No! How can I let you do that?" She'd reprimand with her eyebrows pulled in towards her nose, the bindi on her forehead staying intact and her sindoor (vermilion), untouched.

And so she'd shoo him away and keep working. She was too used to doing it herself now. It didn't really matter to her if she was asked to do any extra work. In fact, her physical strength was beyond the limits of her appearance. She would pull about twenty liters of water in three earthen jars at the same time, pull two cylinders of gas at the same time - something Rudra or Adrith only did once at a time.

She was preparing about a dozen of laddoos (sweets) and had already begun packing them in a steel jar, very precisely, making sure every ball was comfortably seated and would not crumble. She prepared two such boxes, one for the family and the other one to give at the temple.

When her husband asked her what was all this about, because he knew well that sweets would only be made if there was a special occasion or festival, she replied, "I'm going to the temple with my sister. I had asked for a mannat for these people to leave our country for good. I had promised God a dozen of freshly-made laddoos in exchange. Since He finally replied to all of my prayers, I am fulfilling my promise."

No-one ever argued with her about the things that she'd want to do. She was, after all, the woman of the house. Her husband only nodded in response, not wanting to take away her faith and devotion. He quietly walked into their room and opened the locker of the steel cupboard. He dug his hand in there and pulled out a bundle of currency, separated two heavy notes from the it and then handed it to her.

She gladly took it, without any awkwardness, and folded the notes very neatly and stuffed them into her hand-pouch that had the logo of some local jeweler with only one compartment. She zipped the pouch in swiftly and arranged it into her bra, right against her left breast and next to her armpit. She adjusted her blouse then and covered her chest with the rest of the fall of the sari.

Chakla- Maasi wouldn't visit them very often. She always seemed to have some sort of resentment from her elder sister. Many people in the family would point out that she was jealous of her sister, for she herself entered widowhood at a very young age. She was nevertheless kind and caring and was the one to help take care of Rudra and Adrith, when their cries first echoed in the house.

One of the reasons said to contribute Chakla-Maasi's hate towards her sister, was the fact that she was too religious. Chakla-Maasi was always bound to the culture of a widow because of Rudra's mother. Under her radar, Maasi wasn't allowed to sit or eat with others, touch anything else in the house, and only have very plain meals - mostly without spices. The most luxurious eatable to her was a laddoo, that too if she'd make it herself.

She prepared her own food in separate utensils, and would only eat either after everyone had eaten or sitting in another room of the house. She lived with her mother-in-law. And although things were different there, whenever she'd visit her sister, her habits would garner critical judgements. It was due to her sister that she was reminded of being a widow - a worthless one at that. She was constantly told that the only hope for her now was God, and that she should ask for a place among his servants as soon as possible. She was forced to take up religion as a vocation. Rudras mother taught Chakla Maasi everything, even made a schedule for her - wake up early and have her ritual bath and wearing only a white sari, then spend the rest of the day carrying out her own errands while chanting  "Hare Rama, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare". Maasi was then trained how to cook her own meals - vegetarian only and was told to visit temples every evening. "Widows don't have a place in Heaven," Rudra's mother once told Maasi.

When Maasi finally arrived at their door, she wasn't even invited into the house, nor was she offered a drink of water.

"Oh Chakla! Wait here, I'm ready. I'll just grab the box of laddoos." Adrith's mother said and shut the door back on her younger sister.

She returned within seconds with a round stainless steel box in her hand and told her husband to lock the door. They walked down the building a little too loudly, the heels of their slippers echoing throughout the corridors - slap slap slap! They walked towards a bus station and patiently waited on the bus to arrive. Rudra's mother stopped a vendor with a basket on his head and bought a guava sliced in eight and had him smear some red chilli powder and salt throughout the insides. He presented it to her on a paper and she paid him some paise from her pouch in her blouse. She began munching on it, the walls of her mouth sucking in, pools of saliva flooding from the sides of her mouth soundly with her eyes rolling to the top of her head. She swallowed the fruit and her tongue ticked so loudly, the person on the other side of the road could hear her.

When the bus arrived, they hopped in on one of the seats and asked someone to make space for her widowed sister. Before the bus went on, she very lowly screamed, almost like a growl that was sound to Chakla Maasi, "Har Har Mahadev!"

"So didi, how have you been?" Chakla Maasi started, a little hesitant at first but then loudly.

"Mm, everything is fine, Chakla. You tell me, how is Maa?" She replied and then sucked on the tangy and tarty fruit very audibly.

"Oh Maa is great."

Silence.

"Do you remember the son of Brijesh chachu, Ankur?" She started again.

"Do you mean that nasty ass who'd always walk into the girl's room in school by mistake?"

"Yes - Yes! That one. His son just got married."

"Oh, really? That's odd. Wonder why he didn't invite us," Rudra's mother replied, again chewing and clicking loudly.

"Well, I heard he was having an affair with a girl from work."

"Hmm..?"

"Yeah. And that..." Maasi looked around for once and then leaned in closer to her sister's ear and whispered, "she was of a different caste!"

Rudra's mother almost choked on her fruit. She coughed out once or twice, her right hand on her chest now, her sister's hand on her back too. But she swallowed it anyways and then shoved the remainder of the guava in her hand into her mouth, crumpling the paper and throwing it on the road.

"Are you serious?"

Maasi nodded quietly. Her sister's face was in shock, lips slightly parted, breathing out the heat on her tongue. She took the opportunity then, and went on to talk a mile a minute.

"It is kalyug, didi. You have to keep the boys in control. They're very young. Adrith is already of age. Why don't you find a girl for him already?"

Adrith's mother went into a deep thought and she only looked outside the window of the vehicle, a strand of her hair flying backwards. She didn't reply.