The following morning, Madhulika decided she hated birds with a burning passion.

She couldn't imagine why people broke laws to keep them in their houses when their early-morning racket was capable of causing migraines.

And if the birds weren't enough, she could feel someone licking her hand with a very wet tongue.

"You fucking son of a bitch," she said through gritted teeth. "Go away."

Seeing that she was awake, Chikki hopped on the bed and proceeded to lick her face, whining when she stubbornly kept her eyes shut. The bed dipped under the weight of his fat body, making Madhu feel a bit guilty.

"How long has it been since you've gone on a walk?" she asked, cracking one eye open.

He whined at the word walk.

"Fine, get your leash."

Jumping down the bed obediently, Chikki left to do as asked, leaving Madhu to freshen up in the bathroom. One glance at the bucket full of cold-water Nakul had left for her was enough to make her shiver, and she decided to skip showering. The temperature had dropped considerably since the night before and she was in no mood freeze herself to death.

The clock read ten by the time Madhu made her way to the kitchen, only to find Champa cooking something over the stove.

"You don't have to get back to work so soon, take a few days off."

Champa gave her a look over her shoulder which wouldn't have been out of place on the face of a tired schoolteacher. "Between you and Nakul bhai, it'll be a surprise if you two don't starve, especially now that you can't eat Maggi."

"Why not?"

"It has garlic."

That was when it dawned on Madhu. "Wait, it's Navratri already?"

"Mm hmm." She turned back to mixing the pure Navratri food simmering in the pan. "Also, you should take a bath."

"Right!" Madhu rose to her feet, not seeing any point in refusing her commands. "Have you seen Nakul?"

"He already ate and then went to feed the cows I think, must be in the workshop now."

A quick bucket bath and breakfast later, Madhu was walking towards the bazaar with Chikki on her heels, her stomach full of the bland no garlic, no onion meal Champa had made. Though she was thankful to finally get some nutrition in her blood after having survived the last couple of days on junk.

The unmetalled roads were damp from the rains, and she had to jump over quite a few potholes lined with brick steps, but the slipperiness had vanished. Even the occasional wet patches of mud ceased to be in her path when she reached the mouth of the bazaar.

A dirty green carpet was rolled out all the way to the temple, with stalls on both sides of it. The marketplace was buzzing with its usual colours and noise, and amongst the crowd of weekly shoppers, Madhu could spot several middle-aged men going up and down the carpeted pathway, talking to shopkeepers with folded hands and plastic smiles. They all were wearing different versions of the same outfit. One she was used to seeing on politicians--white kurta-pyjama with a khaki vest on top of it.

A shove from behind made her realised that she had been standing still in the middle of the way, and she started walking again, pulling Chikki along. She stopped short again when Sunanda appeared in front of her, wearing a white sari with mustard borders and holding two long sugarcanes in her hand.

"Hi!"

Madhulika regarded her suspiciously. Any hint of the pale, stoic persona she had adopted the night before was gone.

"Just so that the people don't forget their elected representatives," Sunanda elaborated, waving her hand to point at the festive environment. "Even though Panchayat elections are a few years away, we like to be on top."

"Right."

Seemingly undeterred by her clipped tone, Sunanda continued on. "I hope you'd be voting in the next elections. You're eligible you know? Given that you own land here."

"It's not mine, it's my father's," she corrected automatically. "And what makes you think I'll vote for you anyway?"

"I've got fresh sugarcanes?"

"Sunanda--"

"Look," she interrupted Madhu in a harsh, low whisper. "I'll explain everything, I swear. Just not here."

She leaned away, a dimpled smile gracing her face again. "Now go do your prayers, we need to start working with the kids for Ramlila too."

Before Madhu could reply, Sunanda melted away into the crowd.

She bought a dozen bananas and made her way to the temple. It was almost entirely empty, save for many marigold petals sprinkled over the murtis, evidence that pretty much the whole village had finished their prayers before she had even woken up.

"Am I the last one here?"

Pawan Lal stopped arranging flowers at the feet of Lord Ram and turned around, eyes lighting at the sight of Madhu before shrugging in response. "Better late than never I suppose."

He took the bananas from her to lay them as an offering before the deities, giving back her prasad and applying a dot of vermillion between her brows. When Chikki wagged his tail, he got a long red tilak on his head too, much to Madhulika's surprise.

"He doesn't like interacting with new people," she remarked. "But you're the second one to make friends with him so quickly after Nakul."

The portly pundit laughed fondly, scratching Chikki's ears. "Animals love me." His smile waned when he looked up at her. "Is everything alright?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because you're here after telling me you're not a religious person."

"Yes, well Champa forced me to observe Navratri so I thought to do it properly."

"How's she?"

"Going about her life while suppressing trauma."

"So everything isn't alright," concluded Pawan Kaka, sitting down right in the middle of the shrine, beneath the pointed cone of the Shikhara and patting the spot beside him. Madhu hesitated for a second but then decided she could use his advice.

Once she started talking, it was difficult to stop. If it wasn't for his literal presence beside her, Madhu would've assumed she was talking to a wall. He didn't interrupt her as she went on a rant against the gang of Brigesh and his son, as she expressed her confusion over Sunanda, as she bitterly confessed that Nakul's trust in Sunanda rattled her in more ways than one.

"And it's not jealousy," she insisted. "Because I know what petty jealousy is, I ruined my friend's marriage due to it, among other things. But I just...I can't understand her motives, not when she's married to that man."

"Mandodari loved Ravana in spite of all his flaws."

Madhu groaned. "Would you stop with these scriptural references? I'm not in the mood for a lecture."

"I'm just saying, good people can love bad people," he said, amused at her reaction. "Because humans are idiots. Don't tell me you don't know how restrictive irrational love can be."

She pushed back the thought of her married ex as soon as it entered her mind.

"Every emotion is irrational."

"Which is why we need a higher source of purpose to guide us." He nodded towards the Rama-Sita murti in front of them.

"As if that would make any difference in the grand scheme of things. The universe is too big to be affected by me prostrating in front of a deity."

"You're saying that in a temple?"

"Is that a sin?" she challenged him.

"Nothing is a sin." He sighed, "God doesn't decide your destiny, your karma does. Besides, Prabhu understands that you are a human, and therefore, an idiot."

There was something about a teddy bear pundit telling her she was an irrational idiot that prompted Madhu make her way into the bazaar with a new sense of purpose.

She spotted the modern-day Mandodari talking to a flower woman and made a beeline towards her.

"...missing for three hours when I found her in the forest, couldn't find Morni though. Sattu says she's been stolen."

"A girl has been stolen?"

Sunanda whipped her head in surprise at Madhu's shocked outburst. "What? No, not a girl just cows."

"Just cows? How would I feed my children without them? You promised you would find the thieves!"

Like a true politician, Sunanda hurried to assure the aggrieved woman that she would be compensated, and to make up for her slip up, bought two hundred Rupees worth of flowers. Witnessing good opinions being purchased right in front of her made Madhu a bit queasy and question her decision of giving Sunanda a chance to explain herself. But before she could change her mind, the woman in question turned towards her again, an expectant smile on her face.

"Ready for your first day at rehearsals?"

Madhu hesitated for a moment. "Only if the offer of free sugarcanes still stands."

Letting out a hearty chuckle, Sunanda handed her a sugarcane. Madhulika had to physically bite her tongue to stop her questions as they walked together to the spare room behind the temple, telling herself that the explanation could wait.

Children had already gathered at the spot and were chatting amongst themselves. They waved at the two women when they approached them. Sunanda handed them the scripts she had prepared, and they soon began practicing for the Ramlila, mutually agreeing to ignore Chikki's yelps whenever he interrupted their dramatic soliloquies.

Not for the first time, Madhu was taken aback by their sincerity. When she pointed it out to Sunanda she merely shrugged in response.

"They don't really have annual days, so I guess this is their kindergarten phase."

The rehearsals went on for over three hours and the kids were dismissed only when lunchtime rolled around. Everyone personally bid goodbye to their "teachers" before rushing home.

"They seemed pretty eager to get into your good books. I'm not even extended the courtesy of their attention," Sunanda observed.

"If you say so." Madhu glanced at her companion, wishing, not for the first time, that she could read her mind. "Would you like to come over and chat? I've got tea and chips."

"Can't say no to chips."

They took the longer route, the one which followed the river through the community land instead of the path from the bazaar.

"How's Champa?"

Madhu spit out the piece of sugarcane she was chewing on, contemplating how to answer that question for the second time that day. It came out more passive-aggressive than she had intended. "Champa's good, as good as any person who's been bullied into taking back a police report can be."

"Yeah I heard about that."

"From the bully himself I suppose?"

Sunanda's eyes were trained on Chikki and if Madhu hadn't been on a lookout for her expression, she would've missed the way her lips pursed at those words. "Look, I know you've got reasons to dislike him--"

"--that's an understatement--"

"--but I think Champa made the right call."

"Aren't you a feminist," Madhu muttered lowly.

"Don't you dare." Sunanda had stopped walking and was glaring at her. "I started a conversation around family planning and pads in this village when women weren't even allowed to show up in Panchayat meetings. I've been working to educate young girls here for three whole years while you were comfortable in your city life. Don't ever accuse me of betraying my gender, not when you hadn't bothered to glance out of the glossy windows of your corporate office until your cook was in danger." Her chest was heaving when she paused, taking a deep breath and speaking a bit more calmly, though Madhu could still hear the lingering strain in her voice.

"But principles have to be sacrificed sometimes, for the sake of immediate protection. Vishal and his father practically own the local police, and magistrates are easily bribed in this corner of the country. She needs to shut up for now, and you need to trust me when I say that she'll get justice."

Madhulika didn't know how to respond. Sunanda's jibe at her past apathy to her village did sting, but it wasn't misplaced. She went with the first words that came to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did."

"Yes I did," she admitted. "But can you blame me? You're married to him!"

"And how is that relevant?"

"Don't act as if you don't know what I mean."

Sunanda just resumed walking, ignoring her words altogether.

"So let me get this straight, you want me to trust you? The wife of a man who pointed a gun at my boyfriend's forehead. Who assaulted me in front of you just yesterday. Remember that? I stood up for you and you stayed mum when your husband almost choked me to death."

"He was drunk. He always acts out when drunk, and I've learned to stay out of his way when that happens." Sunanda sighed, looking, for the first time, truly exhausted. "Look, my father's power can protect me from him, but it cannot protect everyone in Bhabra. He has some special beef with Nakul, and that's why he's after you too. Please, stay out of his way until I can end this."

"Why did you even marry him?"

"He was charming, and I loved him." Was her simple reply. "I even forgave him when he cheated and when I became pregnant, my father insisted on marriage, but I didn't think that was a punishment at all."

"What changed?"

"We journeyed from Lucknow to Bhabra and he became a different man."

Madhu couldn't decide what was worse, Sunanda's obvious attempts to be vague or her matter-of-fact tone. "So why didn't you divorce him?"

Her lips curled in a sardonic smile. "Because he owes my father two crores, and he owes me a life. I'm not going anywhere without collecting my dues."

That declaration raised more questions in her head than it answered. She didn't understand how Sunanda was still living with them. Pundit ji had compared her with Mandodari. But even the legendary queen of Lanka was fiercely loyal to her husband, stayed by his side in spite of her disapproval of his actions. Then why would Sunanda be any different?

And why am I thinking like a pundit myself? Ugh.

The two women arrived at the old Thakur house while Madhu was battling with her thoughts, which soon changed when she saw the figure of Nakul stumbling over to its gate, blood dripping from under his eye.

"The fuck happened to you?" Madhu didn't recognise the shrill voice which asked that question as she rushed to his side, but it had arisen from her throat and made Nakoo cringe.

"Is this how we're greeting each other now?"

"You're blee--"

"Your tractors have been dispatched; they'll be here by tomorrow," He said, cutting short her hysterical outburst. "And your husband was lying face down under the Panchayat tree last I saw him, probably has a concussion," he directed at Sunanda.

"Well then I better wake him up before the villagers do." She sounded more annoyed than worried. "Save those chips for next time okay?"

Before Madhu could utter another word, she had turned and started walking in the opposite direction, towards her mansion. Nakul wordlessly made his way to the servant quarters.

Madhu hurried after him, leaving Chikki at the cow shed. She flicked aside the single curtain the room had in place of a door. He was on his hands and knees, reaching for something under the old charpoy inside.

Madhu snatched the first aid kit when he pulled it out, and he obliged her by sitting on the cot, allowing her to dab Dettol soaked cotton on his bleeding cut right beneath his right eye, covering it with doctor's tape before cleaning his bruised knuckles. "This was done by a blade."

He shrugged. "Pity Vishal doesn't know how to use a knife, if that's the worst he could do before being knocked to the ground."

She leaned back, making the cot creak, and looked at him incredulously. "Really? You're soaked in blood and have nothing better to say than to show off?"

"Can you blame me? The idiot didn't even go for the unscarred side."

"You wanted him to go for it?"

Nakul winced, rubbing the back of his left ear where he wore the device. "Lower your pitch darling." Lips curling in a lopsided grin at Madhu's prolonged expression of horror, he wound an arm around her waist, tugging till she shifted closer to him on the charpoy. "And here I thought you didn't care about looks."

"I don't, but that doesn't mean you should go and get mauled." It was hard to keep her mind straight when his thumbs were tracing circles on her lower back, making her move towards him unconsciously. "Why did you pick a fight with him?"

"He started it, not me."

"Quit acting like a child! You're like, forty."

"Fuck off, I'm thirty-four."

His playful mood was rubbing off Madhu who felt a giddy smile creeping on her own face. She gave in to his silent coaxing and straddled him, murmuring against his lips, "Yeah? When's your birthday?"

"Would you ever stop bullying me about that?" He didn't sound too offended though, and before she could utter a retort, he had closed what little distance was present between them.

The kiss started slow and teasing, with Nakul cradling her jaw as if she was made of glass. He did that a lot, and Madhu couldn't find a single reason to complain as she tilted her head to match his increasing pace. Her fingers moved up his arms, clutching his biceps before getting tangled in his hair. Letting out a guttural moan when she tugged lightly, he released her lips, mouth leaving a searing trail downward.

"Promise me you won't be so reckless again." Any hint of humour was gone from his voice, and Madhu could sense the underlying desperation he had been trying to hide. "He could've done so much worse."

His warm breath fanned the side of her neck, directly above the nail marks Vishal had left there, and she pulled away a bit to look at him. "Okay," she mumbled.

"Okay," he repeated, deep brown eyes regarding her with an emotion she replicated but was too afraid to voice. "I need to go, complete the prototype before the meeting with the investors."

"Yeah I need to finish making the murtis too."

His arms held her tighter at that and she made no effort to move either.

Madhu didn't know how long they stayed like that. They only separated when Chikki came bounding inside, bowl in mouth and leaped on his lap when Madhu moved away.

She couldn't hold back the laughter. "He thinks it's his turn."

"Okay okay I'm bringing the biscuits." Nakul fell back from Chikki's weight, closing his eyes and guffawing at the abundance of selfish affection her fat dog was showering on him.

For a moment Madhu desperately wished she had a real best friend. Because all she wanted to do was run away in a girl space and gush about Nakul. After kissing the hell out of him of course. Instead, she only cleared her throat and said in what she hoped was a sarcastic voice, "He's only doing it for the food."

"Ignore the jealous lady," he cooed, patting Chikki's head and smoothing his golden hair when he got up, walking out of the quarters and into the house to retrieve his stock of Parle G.

Madhu didn't follow them to the kitchen, knowing that if she spent another minute with him, she'd get zero work done.