As Lathika drove through the familiar streets on her way back home, her mind was anything but settled. Thoughts flitted from one topic to another, jumping like sparks in a fire. At first, she considered stopping by her favourite saree shop—perhaps there'd be a new design she would want to buy. Then, almost as quickly, she thought of grabbing a cold Jigarthanda from a stall on the corner, the cool sweetness of the drink tempting her on this warm afternoon.

But just as her thoughts settled on the idea of sipping Jigarthanda, they leapt again—this time to work. I still have those emails to answer, she reminded herself, mentally listing out the tasks that awaited her back at the office. The event may have been over, but there was always something more to do. She sighed, thinking about the long day ahead.

Her mind wandered once more, this time to the most mundane of questions, what should I have for lunch?

But amid all the swirling thoughts, something surprising surfaced, catching her off guard—Prashanth. His face, his voice, the way he had spoken to her so kindly earlier at the temple, a contrast to how he was during the planning a week ago. It lingered in her mind more than she expected.

She hadn't known what to think of him at first—distant, selfish, too wrapped up in his own life. But today had been different. He had listened, offered her words of encouragement when she needed them most. It wasn't a grand gesture, but it had changed something, however small, in how she saw him.

Maybe he's not so bad after all, she thought, a faint smile tugging at her lips. The warmth of his earlier kindness had surprised her, and she realized, just for a moment, that her impression of him had shifted.

▾▴▾▴▾▴

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the house, Lathika was summoned to Jaimathi's room. The calm, fading light felt like a brief respite after a long day, but as she entered the room, the sense of ease quickly dissipated.

Jaimathi was seated in her favourite chair by the window, the soft shadows playing across her face. She gestured for Lathika to sit beside her, the usual warmth in her eyes, though Lathika could sense something more—something that made her heart skip a beat in anticipation.

"How are you, ma?" Jaimathi asked, her voice casual but with an edge of purpose behind it.

Lathika sat down, her hands resting nervously in her lap. "I'm fine, Achi," she replied, though her voice didn't feel entirely steady. "Is something on your mind?"

Jaimathi smiled faintly, glancing out the window as if gathering her thoughts. Then she looked back at Lathika and asked, almost too casually, "What do you think of Prashanth?"

Lathika blinked, caught off guard by the question. She frowned slightly, sensing something odd in the air, but tried to brush it off. "Prashanth?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Well... he seems less arrogant now than when we first met. He's still... different, but I guess he's not as bad as I thought."

Jaimathi nodded, her expression thoughtful as if weighing Lathika's words carefully. The room fell into a momentary silence, and Lathika's unease grew. She could feel her pulse quicken, her heart beating a little faster, the quiet before the storm.

Then, Jaimathi's tone shifted, becoming more serious as she leaned slightly closer. "I'm glad you've started to see that," she said softly, her eyes not leaving Lathika's. "There's something important we need to talk about."

Lathika's breath hitched. Deep down, she already knew what was coming, and yet, she wasn't prepared to hear it. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress, her pulse drumming in her ears.

Jaimathi's voice was steady as she spoke again, "Do you remember the promise you made to me, Lathika?"

The words struck her like a lightning bolt, and suddenly, everything fell into place. The promise—of course. Her heart began to race even faster, and she struggled to keep her expression neutral.

"I remember," Lathika said slowly, trying to mask her unease. "But what does that have to do with Prashanth?"

Jaimathi took a deep breath, her gaze softening but still holding that firmness of a woman who had made up her mind. "I've been thinking about your future, ma. You're not getting any younger, and as the eldest in the family, it's my responsibility to see that you're settled. I want you to fulfil the promise you made to me."

Lathika's throat tightened, and the words she had feared for so long finally fell from her grandmother's lips.

"I want you to marry the man of my choice," Jaimathi said, her voice unwavering. "Someone who I believe will be the perfect match for you."

Lathika's heart plummeted. She hadn't thought about marriage in years, and even if she had, it was never in the context of an arranged alliance. She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "Who... who are you talking about?"

Jaimathi met her gaze, her voice gentle but firm as she spoke the words that made Lathika's world tilt on its axis.

"Prashanth. I've chosen Prashanth as your potential groom."

The room seemed to spin. Lathika's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "Achi!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with shock and disbelief. "You... you can't be serious. This isn't fair! How can you bind me to something like this? Don't I have a say in this?"

Jaimathi's expression remained calm, though there was a flicker of emotion in her eyes. "I'm not binding you, Lathika," she said softly. "I'm asking you to honour the promise you made. I've been thinking about this for months, and I believe this is the right choice for you."

"But this?" Lathika shook her head, her mind racing. "Marrying Prashanth? You didn't even give me a chance to decide for myself!"

"I know this is a lot to take in," Jaimathi said, her voice still patient, but with a firmness beneath it. "But you trust me, don't you? You know I would never choose someone for you if I didn't believe it was for your best."

"That's not the point, Achi!" Lathika's voice rose, frustration and disbelief colouring her words. "You've always let me make my own decisions. Why now? Why force this on me?"

Jaimathi sighed deeply, her eyes softening with a mixture of love and concern. "I'm not forcing anything on you, ma. But you've been so focused on your career, on handling everything alone. I want to see you settled, happy. You deserve a partner, someone who can share your life with you. And I believe Prashanth could be that person."

Lathika stared at her, her heart thudding in her chest. She was at a loss for words, torn between the deep respect she had for her grandmother and the overwhelming shock of what was being asked of her. "But... Achi, I don't even know him that well. How can you expect me to agree to this?"

Jaimathi's voice took on a more serious tone, though it remained steady. "You don't have to decide right away, Lathika. I know this is sudden. But I want you to seriously think about it. Prashanth is a good man, and I believe he's a better match for you than you realize."

Lathika shook her head again, stepping back as if the walls of the room were closing in on her. "I can't believe you're asking this of me."

"And I can't believe you're questioning my judgment," Jaimathi replied, a hint of steel in her voice. "I've always had your best interests at heart, Lathika. Always. This is no different."

There was a tense silence, the weight of Jaimathi's words hanging heavily in the air. Lathika's chest felt tight, her emotions swirling in a confusing mix of anger, hurt, and confusion.

"I'll give you two months," Jaimathi said finally, her voice cool and controlled. "Two months to find someone else, or agree to marry Prashanth. And if you can't, then you'll have to choose between your independence and your family."

Lathika's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest. "Achi, that's not fair. You can't just—"

"Two months, Lathika," Jaimathi repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument. "If you don't choose, then forget you have a grandmother, or a family."

Lathika eyes fixated on her grandmother; an eyebrow raised. This is going to be tough fight, she thought ready to go against her very own grandmother.

▾▴▾▴▾▴

The atmosphere in Raahini's house was charged with tension. The cool evening air did nothing to settle the storm brewing inside. The words between Prashanth and his father echoed through the halls, loud and sharp, bouncing off the walls like bullets. Raahini sat silently, her gaze as hard as steel, watching the heated exchange unfold in front of her.

"Why do I have to settle down now?" Prashanth's voice was full of frustration. "I'm not ready for this. You know I never wanted to be tied down!"

His father, Nagendra, remained calm, though his eyes reflected a deep disappointment. "It's not just about what you want, Prashanth. Life isn't always about being free. You've lived long enough for yourself. It's time to start thinking about responsibility, about family."

"Responsibility?" Prashanth let out a bitter laugh. "You're telling me this now? I've been clear from the beginning—freedom is the only thing I value. I'm not meant for a life of attachment."

The back-and-forth was relentless, neither willing to back down. Prashanth's dream had always been simple: live freely, unattached to anything or anyone. The idea of marriage, of being tied down, was suffocating to him. But now, he found himself trapped, bound by the very words he had given to his grandmother in exchange for her promise of wealth.

Nagendra, his voice steady but firm, tried once again to reason with his son. "No one is asking you to give up your dreams, Prashanth. But you can't run from life forever. Sooner or later, you'll have to face it."

Prashanth crossed his arms, his frustration bubbling over. "I'm not running from anything. I just don't see why I should give up everything I've worked for, everything I've planned, for something I don't even want."

The argument raged on, neither willing to give an inch, while Raahini watched in silence. Her face was impassive, but her eyes, sharp as ever, followed every word exchanged between her son and grandson.

Finally, when the tension reached its breaking point, Raahini's voice cut through the room like a thunderclap. "Enough!"

The sound of her voice silenced both men instantly. Prashanth and Nagendra turned to face her, their argument hanging in the air like unfinished business.

Raahini stood from her seat, her posture commanding and unyielding. "Two months," she declared, her voice as cold and firm as steel. "That's all I'll give you, Prashanth. Either you find someone you're willing to spend your life with, or you marry Lathika. Those are your only options."

Prashanth's eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest. "Achi, you can't be serious."

"Serious?" Raahini's gaze pierced through him. "Do you think I would make a promise and then not follow through? Don't test me, Prashanth. If you don't make a decision in two months, you can forget everything I've promised you. That includes your inheritance."

Her words hung heavy in the air, suffocating in their finality. There was no room for negotiation, no loophole for him to slip through. She had made her decision, and now he had no choice but to face the consequences.

Prashanth clenched his fists, his body trembling with anger. He felt trapped, his dreams of freedom slipping away like sand through his fingers. Without another word, he stormed out of the room, his mind a chaotic mess of frustration and disbelief.

✈✈✈✈

Prashanth slammed the door to his room, his breath coming in sharp, angry bursts. He felt the walls closing in on him, suffocating him with the weight of his grandmother's words. Two months. Two months to decide his entire future.

He wanted to leave Madurai. Leave everything behind. The thought of being forced into something he didn't want—to marry Lathika, no less—made his skin crawl. She was a nice girl, sure, but he wasn't ready for that kind of life. Not now. Not ever.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he buried his face in his hands, his thoughts racing. He didn't want to be unfair to her either. Lathika deserved someone who was ready, someone who wanted to be in a relationship. And he... he had always wanted nothing more than his freedom.

But then there was the promise. The promise he had made to Raahini in exchange for her wealth. The thought of losing it all was unbearable.

He shook his head, unable to sit still any longer. The tension in his chest was too much to bear. Reaching for his phone, he quickly made a booking for the earliest flight back to Chennai. He had to get away from all of this. Maybe if he left, he could think clearly.

✈✈✈✈

Grannies can be a little to persuasive for our own good, sometimes.

What do you think might take place in the future?

Drop your votes and comments.

See, ya!