"My lovely sweet babies, listen to Mumma and please be good. I know this is not very tasty but it is good for you and will help you grow up nice and strong. And in the evening I shall give you a thin concoction of neem oilseed paste, which I agree is vile but that is also good for you. So be my nice babies and drink it all up so..."

"There are times when I think we should get you married to that Palas tree or the Hibiscus bush. Then when anyone wants to know where Swara is, we can tell she is in her in-laws'place, which will be quite appreciated, for where else would a married woman be but in her husband's house? Do not glare at me; you are forever wallowing in mud so it seemed an appropriate observation."

Swara got up from the bed where she had been kneeling in; she had just finished transplanting a batch of phlox, carefully placing the seedlings at eight to ten inches apart, as the plants did not grow well when crowded. She had been on her knees since dawn; sowing the seeds for begonias and zinnias, pruning the chrysanthemums and the carnations and had finally got around to transplanting the phlox seedlings.

"Kiara di, I am not wallowing in mud, I am planting the seedlings. You should know."

"I know, but you are always in the garden and with those flowers of yours, you hardly seem to have time for us, so I want to complain."

Swara's reply was to throw her arms round Kiara in a hug, which elicited both a return hug and another admonishment, "Swara, you should have at least wiped your hands, you have got dirt on me too."

Her admonishment was met with conspiratorial giggle from Swara, who went on to smear the mud on Kiara's cheeks and ran off before Kiara could react, though she heard her shout, "Swara, come inside soon, Dida made poha for breakfast."

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It was during breakfast that Swara realised that cooking her favourite dish had been a bribe, to make her do what they wanted.

"We got a new contract yesterday, they want a daily delivery for one year; I was there with Dida and we signed it off...though there was an unusual request, Dida agreed for the amount is good."

Spooning the poha into her mouth, Swara mumbled, "Unusual? What do you mean?"

Kiara and Dida exchanged glances, which raised suspicions in Swara, so she stopped eating as she waited for them to spill it out, "well, the client wanted a note to be attached with each delivery, we are free to decide the words."

Swara raised an eyebrow, waiting for them to expound, which Kiara did, with a mischievous smile, "She is a little shy of expressing her feelings so she wants us to write small love notes for her and I agreed..."

Swara spluttered, "You mean to say the two of you agreed that I would write love letters on behalf of a woman..."

"It will be a good practice for you to write the notes, you will gain confidence."

"No, I do not need writing practice, least of all, writing love letters on behalf of a woman who is too scared to confess her feelings. I refuse to help cowards."

"Judgemental, are we?"

That silenced Swara, she was aware how it hurt when people passed judgements and she usually tried not to be the same, but she was not comfortable with what she had been asked to do, especially the writing part; reading and writing had always been problematic for her.

Seeing her silent, Kiara dropped the final bombshell, "We do not have the name of the guy, only the initials SM and she wants you to sign off as Sona.

This time, Swara choked, "Shona? Are you joking with me? You want me to sign off using my nick name?"

"Sona, Swara, Sona, not Shona. And no, I am not joking; her name is Sonal Singh, which he would recognise, so she wants it signed off as Sona."

"No, I am not doing it"

"The money is good"

"Return it."

"I have already deposited it in the bank and it was cleared too."

"No problem, we will pay her back with a cheque or a bank transfer, you are the expert, so deal with it."

Kiara gave a smile which should have warned Swara, "Cannot do that, I have already used that money," and seemed unfazed by the looks of astonishment on both their faces.

"You spent one hundred and fifty thousand rupees in a day?"

Kiara smiled, "well around sixty thousand for an electric automated wheel chair for Dida, which, by the way you approved last night," and turning towards Dida, Kiara continued, "and you agreed for paying the down payment for a Honda Activa for Swara, it is in dazzling yellow. I still am hunting for the helmet in a matching shade, but do not worry, that is my gift to you. So you now know that unless each of you wants me to cancel the order for the other, we go ahead with the contract."

"I wonder what I would do without the two of you," Swara made no attempt to disguise the sarcasm as she looked at Kiara who was kneeling beside Dida and had rested her head against Dida's lap.

Kaira smiled, "I do not know about you but I know where I would be, either in a brothel house slowly dying of AIDs or a beggar woman, roaming the streets of Kolkata, with at least half a dozen kids from different fathers."

"KiarAA..."

Dida's tone took Kiara twenty years down the memory lane when her six year old self had been tugged in opposite directions, one by the social worker, Ms Mandira, who decided that Kiara belonged in an orphanage and in the other by four year old Swara who was determined that Kiara would not leave them.

Kiara allowed herself to be pulled, first in one then in the other, her mind numb and unable to deal with the what had happened over the last two days, for death had destroyed the life and family as she had known. She knew that the social worker was right but she did not want to leave Swara; Swara was her baby sister and she realised that at that point Swara would need as many familiar faces around her as possible. But she also knew that the decision was out of her hands; she could be mature for a six year old girl but then decisions would be made by the adults and the only adult left in their family did not even appear to be aware of them, despite the constant loud wails of Swara and the vehement orders of the worker. Kiara gave one last look of despair, before she turned to Swara, who seemed to understand what she would say for she simply clung harder and wailed louder. It was then that the social worker decided that she had enough and sought to take matters in her own hand. She released Kiara, who almost fell at the sudden freedom but was quick enough to recover and lunge in front of Swara; for as she guessed, Mandira had decided that Swara might be easier to beat around and bully than Kiara. The sound of Mandira's palm connecting with Kiara's back resounded in the shocked silence for Swara had gone numb at that sight, having never been hit in her life till then.

It was at that instant that Mrs Shobha Bose roared; a booming cry that had all of them freezing, "You will not even think of laying a finger on either of my granddaughters again, it does not matter how I am, I am simply going to kill you. Now it would be good if you just left us alone."

Mandira gritted her teeth and attempting to be reasonable, argued, "Mrs Bose, I think you are not able to think rationally, the accident has affected your head. I am only here to help you and it is clear that this girl is an orphan. So it is in everyone's interests if I am allowed to take her with me."

Mrs Shobha just glared and repeated, "Both of them are my granddaughters, just leave them alone and get out of the room."

Mandira returned the glare, though her intensity wavered and as though struck by a brilliant thought, she sneered, "How can Kiara Patil be your granddaughter?"

"Her mother, Sushmita, was my daughter."

Mandira did not back away; she was an egotistical woman, who despite volunteering to a NGO that worked towards the upliftment of underprivileged children lacked empathy and could somehow not fathom why anyone would claim an orphan as their own child. Dismayed at this turn of events, which she saw as personal insult, she retorted, "I think the accident has truly affected you, you only had a son, who died..."

"Listen woman, I do not even want to know your name, I may have lost my entire family, I might not be able to walk properly again and I am not sure what exactly life has in store for me, but I am not crazy. I am sane and I will reiterate that Kiara is my granddaughter. Now it is up to you to decide if you are going to go against my word, me, a wife to a brigadier and a mother to a lieutenant colonel. And yes, I was not making an empty threat when I promised to kill you, my husband taught me how to shoot and he was quite proud of my skills."

That last was a lie and a threat, but it seemed to have its effect for the bravado of Mandira crumpled and she felt the flicker of fear. It was fear in her eyes and hope in Kiara's heart that had made them hold silence against that lie for the hospital records entered Mrs Bose and her two granddaughters as the only survivors of that accident. It was a lie that soon became a reality as people forgot that Mrs Bose never had a daughter.

Ten years ago, on her sixteenth birthday, Kiara broached that topic again, "Dida, nobody remembers but then it is the true that I am not really your granddaughter, is it not?"

This time Dida did not answer immediately, she thought for a while and then asked, "So you do not consider Swara as your sister?"

Aghast that Dida, of all people, could think that way, Kiara asserted, "Swara is always my sister, how could you.." she stopped for she realised that she had gotten her answer, Swara adored Kiara and called her grandmother Dida because that was what Kiara called her.

Wiping Kiara's tears, Dida decided to spell it out for her, "Some bonds are forged by the heart, dear child and they are stronger than those of blood. I did not give birth to Sushmita, it is a fact, yet she will always be my daughter, not only because she gave up her life to save Swara but because I always saw her as one, from the minute she stepped into this home with you as a two year old baby. And I am warning you, this is the last time you will broach this topic."

Kiara could not stop herself from voicing her doubts, though the intervals between such doubts increased with time; and soon Dida and Swara realised that it was only because Kiara needed an assurance, a vocal reassurance that she was always a part of this family.

Swara glared at Kiara, determined not to give in and pitched in what she thought was a ingenious objection, "And this guy, whoever it is, will think it is Sonal who is giving the bouquet, despite me giving it to him, or rather one of us delivering it to him?"

"Sonal is shy, not stupid, we have to leave it at the main reception of the building where he has his office, she said she would leave instructions to have it delivered to him. So there is no way that either of your paths are going to cross. Now do you have any more questions?"

The rest of the breakfast continued in silence, Dida unconcerned, Kiara was smug while Swara smarted and sulked.

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After breakfast, Swara busied herself making the bouquets which would be sent off by mid-morning as per the order schedule, she had never met any of the clients but could somehow guess and refine their individual preferences within a few attempts so that each bouquet or flower arrangement was unique; it was this ability of hers that had led to the success of her flower business, Kiara's Kreations, despite the fact that they never sold any flowers on a retail basis. It worked well for them for neither Swara nor Dida could cope with having a shop and a regular stream of strangers wanting flower bouquets.

The rest of the morning and most of the afternoon found Swara spend her time attempting to write the notes. She was upset at the way Kiara was confident she would capitulate; it was evident by the presence of a bundle of pale blue paper, with the flower watermarks, enough for her to write a thousand notes, which might be needed considering Swara's dislike of writing and her propensity to make errors. In the background, she could hear the gramophone sing her Dida's favourite song and Swara hummed as she unthinkingly wrote out the first two lines of that song. As though inspired by the song, she rummaged through their small book collection and picked out the few poetry collections they had and read them for a few ideas. It was slow and laborious, but then she did manage to write out five notes, before misgivings took over.

She could agree that it was only a contract, there was nothing wrong with writing notes on behalf of a shy woman, their pet names being similar was a mere coincidence and the money was good. Not exactly, she thought, for they would not be able to supply a dozen flowers and the accompanying leaves and other elements at that rate, but then she could make it work, she was good at creating bouquets with even a couple of flowers. It was not the costing that worried her.

She also agreed on the logical reasoning that there was nothing personal about it and her writing the notes was harmless and maybe, it could help Sonal find her love; the romantic in her approved of it, it would be nice if her bouquets acted as a cupid.

Then there was the temptation of owing a two-wheeler and the necessity of buying an automated wheelchair for Dida; as Dida had aged her legs had started failing, so much so that a couple of years ago she had started using a wheelchair, as using a cane was no longer a viable option. Dida never said a word, but Swara and Kiara both knew that Dida hated the extra dependency the wheelchair imparted on her. The automated wheelchair would give Dida freedom and mobility which even the cane had not given her.

She agreed to all the points, what scared her was that she would have to write the notes, three hundred and sixty five of them.

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The Universe could be composed of chaos and cosmos, but it is much more than that, it seems of have a will of its own, a mind of its own and when a resolution of such a vast entity is made and expressed on our will, we mere mortals call it as coincidence and believe it to be signatures of God. As the Universe watched Swara debate with herself, it decided to impose its will and let a coincidence occur.

And a fortuitous coincidence it was, for at the precise moment that Niraj expressed his wish for Sanskaar, Swara made up her mind; what she had to do was not cheating, she was simply helping out someone and getting paid for it, it was all fair business. And before she could let her confusions change her mind again, she grabbed one of the notes, scribbled the 'Dear SM' on the top of the words and signed it off. She then rolled it up, tied it with a ribbon and then attached it to a bouquet that she took less than five minutes to assemble. However, in her hurry to deliver the bouquet, she forgot to attach the tag of their flower boutique, one which would let the recipient know who the creator of the bouquet was.

As she left to deliver the bouquet, the Universe gave a quiet chuckle; the note that Swara picked up,it was a special one. For it was a song that she often heard when her Dida played in on the old gramophone player, a song which she had been told that her grandfather had often sung for her Dida, a song with which her father had wooed her mother, a song that deep within her stirred hope, a hope of dreams and love. It was a song that she had grown up to and one which she had never intended to be a message; least of all, a message from a woman she had never met, to a stranger she had never even known existed till that day. But which one of us can understand how the Universe works and if any of us could hear what it says, at the moment it would be humming:

As I write this letter, send my love to you,

Remember that I'll always, be in love with you...

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And here ends the confusion of chaotic Swara, albeit temporarily, as she made up her mind to fulfil the contract. So now that you know why she wrote that note, what do think would happen next? Okay that is a redundant question, but still, it does set an interesting premise, does it not? Do let me know your thoughts and if you liked it, do let me know (simple, just press the star icon and better still, leave a comment).

Next update would again have a glimpse into Sanskaar, as we learn a little more about him in A Fistful of Sky, which would be on November 19, 2018.

love

Nyna

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