“Nivi,” Shruti cupped my face as she pulled away from the hug attempting to glance at my face. “What’s wrong?” She sounded genuinely concerned.

“Is it necessary for him to have dinner with us?” I spoke in between my hiccups as I was attempting hard to hold my tears back.

She stared at me a minute longer, “you have prepared…” she shut herself as she glanced at our guest standing behind me. I was glad that I wasn’t facing him. I was aware that he could hear our conversation but the fear within me forced me to be vocal towards Shruti even if I was in his presence.

“If he won’t be there…” she paused as if deciding to choose a suitable word. “Don’t you want that they at least try to understand him as a person than judge him for the religion…” she kept it incomplete.

“They won’t!” I argued, “they are so soaked in their hate that they won’t…”

“But won’t you even provide me with an opportunity to prove them wrong?” Faizal muttered, I didn’t have the courage to face him. “Nivi,” he was attempting to grab my attention. “We were aware about our parents’ views! I am prepared for things waiting for me.” He was attempting to assure me.

“But I can’t let you!” I argued, glancing back at him. “I am not as strong as you, I wouldn’t be able to fight with my family neither I would be able to see you getting humiliated.” I was crying as I was left with the only option.

My parents held importance to me, I won’t be able to go against them. To see those orbs filled with disappointment neither I could allow them to humiliate, degrade Faizal.

“Why do you think your parents would do that?” I heard a familiar voice and I saw Dad walking towards us along with Jiju. “I had uttered it before we know to treat our guest,” his hard gaze was fixed on me. "Don’t put us in same category,” he groaned as he eyed Faizal.

I sighed! “Come…” Dad glanced at Faizal, “let show you how guest is treated in our culture.” He mocked, Faizal passed him a smile.

“Sure, I have no doubt on it.” He blinked his orbs in assurance as he moved along with them towards the living area.

“Is he going to keep mocking Faizal?” I felt disheartened at the thought of it.

“You know, dad…” Shruti whispered, “he is furious due the way they treated you.”

“But he wasn’t responsible for it,” I argued.

“I guess, you don’t need to worry about him.” Shruti smiled at his retreating figure. “He is mature to handle it.”

•••

“Mom won’t really make it?” I inquired as we were setting the plates on the dinning table.

“I guess so,” Shruti shrugged her shoulder. “It will be better if she doesn’t…”

We were aware about her disliking towards Muslim or any religion apart from Hindu. She was born and brought up in proper Nair family. They considered themselves superior over the other race. So, mom was brought up with a mentality that other religion couldn’t match with their superiority.

Dad wasn't that strict on the matters. Due to dad, we were allowed to make friends and enjoy our childhood with others but mom was highly against them being invited into our home. And often used to disappear herself in an attempt not to interact with them. That was the reason that I never allowed my heart to have expectation about the possibility of me and Faizal. It always seemed as if we weren’t meant to be together.

By the time we had arranged the dinning table the males arrived, busy in their conversation. “Why you took one-month work period so far off?” Jiju was inquiring about Faizal’s reason to travelling to Kochi.

“I have a debt due to my sister’s wedding, I had to work here. They were in urgent need of a coder,” he shrugged his shoulder. “And were offering a larger sum for less period so I opted for it.”

“Oh!” Dad grabbed a place on the head of the table as we started serving them. “So, you would be moving within a month?"

“Not a month, a few days are remaining for my contract.” He explained making my heart sink in sadness. I won’t be able to see it. Just few days!

“If they are offering you with larger sum of money, why don’t you make it permanent?” Jiju inquired seemed genuinely interested in the business world.

“Ammi doesn’t like it,” Faizal mumbled, his orbs locked on the plate before him. “Her health condition aren’t good and if I am away from her, she keeps stressing about me.” He sighed, “so I am making it earlier… have requested if I can go back before the end of contract.”

“It feels great to know that youngster is taking in their responsibility,” Dad voiced out his opinion. Faizal raised his head from the plate, “I don’t meet much male with such determination.” He confessed, indirectly voicing about my cousins.

Faizal’s responsible trait had attracted me to him the most. He had the courage to stand up for things, to face the world around him. He had reached to the position he is, due to his hard work. He had worked part-time during his college days.
I smiled as the conversation was shaping in the positive direction. I hadn’t expected that! 

•••

The dinner was done and from the smile Faizal had while eating it, I was sure he liked it. I had never felt like cooking before! I wasn’t fond of wasting so much time in the kitchen but if I was rewarded with the satisfaction his face had,  maybe I won’t mind doing it again. Spending my holiday in kitchen!

“My child had worked really hard today,” dad mumbled as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

“She really succeeded in cooking it without burning,” Jiju had an adoring smile playing on his lips. And for a second, I felt as if everything was back to normal. I had missed this! Us being us, without a fear that they would judge me, they would force me.

“And all thanks to you,” Shruti bowed in front of Faizal as she brought a tray having bowls of desert. “If you wouldn’t have challenged her, we would have never known that we have an amazing chief in our home.”

“Shruti!” I groaned as she was making fun of me. “It isn’t like I have never cooked!” I glared at her. Maybe I won’t cook on regular basis but I had on times when it was necessary.

“But today it was different, you had cooked a proper South-Indian thali.” Jiju grinned as he glanced at Faizal, “you might not be used to eating it?” He asked for which Faizal offered him a slight nod. “I hope you adored the taste of it?”

“Yes, it was delicious…” he orbs locked with mine for a second. A beautiful smile was playing on his lips, but he forced himself to break the eye-lock and take the bowl Shruti was offering him.

“This seem something new?” Jiju inspected the bowl with his curious stare.

“Just try it,” I encouraged. “Specially prepared by your dear wife,” I mumbled, Shruti blushed grabbing a seat beside Faizal. I was surrounded by Dad and Jiju on either side of me.

“The situation is turning worse,” Dad voice was serious as he glanced at the TV screen. Though the news was playing but we had muted it. “I will call your mother and ask her to stay behind,” he muttered before raising from the couch and walking towards his room.

We had our room set on the ground floor only a terrace upstairs and an vacant room. That vacant room was used by Shruti and Jiju at the period. I still had to give Faizal a tour of our house.

“You should stay behind as well,” Jiju mumbled glancing at Faizal. “It won’t be safe travelling at such an hour.” His orbs locked on the Tv scene.

They were displaying video of things happening in just few kms away from us. The glass was being broken of bus, causing damage for the travelers inside it. People were throwing stones, burning cars, destroying public properties, they didn’t even mind fighting with the police officers.

“What is even happening?” I covered my face. It really stressed me, so I kept myself away from violence. It affected my mental peace. For I didn’t glance at those videos as Hindu and Muslim fighting with each other. I didn’t stare at it to blame either of them but I could only notice the pain in those victims and when I glanced at their faces, for me they weren’t Muslim or Hindu, they were humans and it wounded me to see that humans were after humans life.

The power of hate was that dangerous. It could destroy you from within and you won’t even be aware of it. I was so engrossed in the life of those victims that I wasn’t even aware when Jiju and Shruti walked away.

“You shouldn’t let it affect you,” as if reading from my distress Faizal mumbled. I forced my gaze from the scene, staring into his understanding orbs.

“Would this stop?” I was scared. The things were real! I kept convincing my mind that it won’t be that harmful. That violence which had started in the state of Andhra Pradesh would subside but it had only raised. It kept raising, the wave of hate was spreading faster than any virus and it scared me. What if things like Partition occurred, again? People had lost so many people during that period. The war or violence wasn’t ever a solution to a problem rather it only raised the issue but people were so dumb to understand it.

“It will…” he attempted to assure yet I could feel fear in those orbs.

“Why they hate so much?” I never got an answer to it.

“Because they had never known the meaning of love,” he reasoned out as he passed me a smile. “You can’t do anything for the hate around you but you can always spread the love within you.” I smiled at him. He was so correct. I shouldn’t allow the hate to get a troll over me because I had love within me.

“So, why not a tour around the house?” I inquired as I stood up getting excited.

He shook his head, chuckling at my sudden change in mood. “Okay,” he stood up.

“So,” I spread my arms around. “This is our living-room.” I pointed at the room we were in. It wasn’t big in size but big enough to hold a medium size couch with a table in the center. Opposite to it on the wall was set LED tv, with random pictures on the side of the walls, mostly of scenery.

Accompanied my decorative items, from childhood I had a passion of creating craft objects. “Those are my creations,” I had a proud smile playing on my lips as I pointed it to him.

Collage made up of newspaper, painted scenery, flowers made up of plastic. Everything was arranged in proper manner on the small stand. “Those are trophies,” I pointed out. “Unfortunately not of mine,” I tired to mask a smile on my face as he glanced at trophies arranged beside it.

“The sweet-little trophies are much more precious,” Faizal mumbled walking towards the glass stand. “If you don’t mind, can I touch it?” He asked sounding excited to glance at my creation.

I grinned as I followed him, nodding in agreement. I had met very few people in my life that appreciated my skill for creativity. It had took me years to accept my love for creative as growing up it was often seen as waste of time from my parents.

Shruti was born before me, raising my parents standard. She was exceptional in studies. She came under the category of A-student. So, they had high hopes from their second-child. Much to their displeasure I wasn’t that great and I spent my time with those colors rather than solving more mathematic problems. It was as if no matter how much I attempted to grab interest in it, I couldn’t. Resulting into me turning into a student who just managed to pass.

Studying under the same school as Shruti was more humiliating. I had to bear those teachers expectation. According to them I just needed to work-hard, but no matter of working hard improved my mathematic problem. As I grew up, I started expecting the way I was. I could never be Shruti, the way she could never be me. I stopped feeling guilty for creating but also, I stopped expecting that others would understand my love for it.

“You say, you created this when you were a child?” Horror was quite visible in his orbs. “I don’t think, I can even manage to make it now.”

“Thank you,” I giggled. “But stop exaggerating,” I mumbled keeping it back on its place. “It isn’t that great!”

“It is!” He defended staring straight into my orbs. “Stop limiting yourself,” he glared. “You’re exceptional!” He continued, “and you should think about starting your own firm.”

He was trying to convince me about it from past few months. According to him, Mr. Iyer was using my name. He was using my skills to promote himself as a brand. People had no-idea about my existence yet they were offered with my design. But it wasn’t easy to become a brand. Mr. Iyer have the business skills; he knows the pros and cons of business world. Those techniques, I was clueless in that department. I needed time to grasp the knowledge of it.

“Now isn’t the time,” I mumbled pushing the thought away.