Sun rays in her direct line of sight made her vision red. Or maybe it was just her simmering blood.

Her frenzied state alarmed the receptionist, who tried to chase and stop Madhu but couldn't move from behind her desk fast enough to prevent her from heading straight to his office. Richa, Javeri's assistant, looked up immediately. "Is he in there?"

She nodded, not rising from her chair.

Madhu pushed the door open, barging inside and throwing the copy of his paper on his table. "What is this?"

"Thakur hey." He didn't bother glancing at her, making a great show of reading a file though she could see his eyes were staring at a single spot. "I thought you won't be back before Diwali."

"Why you got other libel hit-pieces for your rag?"

"Right now, it's your mouth that smells like a rag. Did you even brush or is this some new connected-to-the-soil villager kind of statement?"

"The least you could've done is called me."

"Where exactly?" he demanded, finally dropping the act and directing his attention at his long-time patron. "You were off the map, with a broken phone. How was I supposed to contact you?"

"So you chose to smear my name? Papa is already talking to our lawyers to sue your paper for defamation."

"Don't be like that. You're welcome to write your own rebuttal. We can take your interview right now. Though we'll need a picture so you might want to change." He looked at her crumpled tee and curry stained jeans from the day before, unibrow contracting into a frown.

"Seriously, have you brushed?"

Ignoring the question, Madhu dropped on a chair opposite his desk. "Why did you smear Nakul's name like that? You weren't even there, you don't even know him. He tried his best to stop them. I was there."

"We only quoted the victim and wrote what he alleged." His voice softened from something Madhu knew wasn't even close to sympathy. "Look a court case would only make you look like a guilty rich person. Going to another paper would make it seem that your story is not credible enough to be run by a non-biased source, AKA us. Frankly, I don't think anyone cares about you, but sticking up for your heroic boyfriend might make you look good."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Obviously, I didn't mean that literally," Tarun was quick to say. "As if SRK from Swades would ever be your type. No, I meant that even the most liberal of our readers would be angry at the way we've accused a decorated ex-serviceman. Defending him might make you look good."

"I don't understand why you made me look bad in the first place."

"Hey, you were the one who wanted the spotlight on that village. Now you have it. Any publicity is good publicity. Tell us your side of the story."

Madhu knew what he was doing. Javeri was the most selfish person she had the misfortune of being acquainted with. That along with his ruthless pragmatism had made him an expert in scratching the skin of his prey until he got what he wanted. This time too he managed to make her bleed.

"Okay."

Thakurs Cry Foul; Allege Slander and Sexism

New Delhi: Following the exposé about her possible involvement in a gruesome case of mob violence, hotelier Madhulika Thakur reached out to The New Delhi Post to deny the charges.

"I was the one to call the police, you can look at my phone records. Why would I want his property in Bhabra when I'm selling mine? That was the only reason I was in the village," said Thakur in reference to the allegations made against her. "To make it perfectly clear, I'm not trying to victim-blame. But Vikram (name changed) has a long history of past crimes that have directly impacted the poor and marginalised community members. He enjoyed immunity from law enforcement authorities due to his late father's influence. I'm talking about serious crimes of arson, bonded labour, attempted kidnapping, assault, land grabbing, and of course, abetting cattle smuggling. He basically was the mafia and his wife can attest to all that."

She did not mince words while defending her long-time family friend who's the primary accused as the inciter of the mob. "It is a disgrace that in the name of journalism you people jumped to slander a disabled ex-serviceman who has only ever worked for his country and community. He has been serving at the grassroots for over three years to ensure the energy needs of every family in Bhabra is met. He himself was assaulted by the mob when he tried to stop them."

For now, Miss Thakur's lawyers are moving court to seek anticipatory bail before they proceed to file a counter case against the accuser.

Our team tried contacting the wife of the victim, who also happens to be the head of the panchayat, but she was unable to make a comment. Her assistant, however, did confirm Miss Thakur's claims and sent pictures and reports in support of it... (cont. on pg. 9).

"I can't believe they made you sound so defensive. A placard hanging from your neck saying 'guilty' would've been less obvious," said her father, shaking his head as he folded the week-old edition of The New Delhi Post and placed it beside his plate.

"How many times are you going to read that?"

"As many times as necessary to get it through your head that this media war idea of yours is doing more harm than good. It was impulsive and stupid."

"The public opinion is mostly in our favour, especially now that Sunanda has come out with her side." Madhu hadn't been expecting any kind of support from Sunanda, but to her surprise, she had finally decided to leave Vishal for good.

If there was anything other than military heroes the conscientious urban middle class respected, it was the shining example of a self-made, 'true' Indian woman. And Sunanda checked all those boxes.

One interview with a local newspaper, later translated and published by Javeri too, had resulted in her overnight rise as a young, dynamic, fearless woman. The face of modern India. Scores of channels dedicated their primetime debates on her background. Her father being an incumbent MLA in the fast-approaching state elections amplified the noise around her.

All things considered, Madhu was relieved Sunanda had directed attention away from her.

"I don't care about public opinion, we're not politicians," Mahesh Lal snapped. "But it's wedding season and bookings are at an all-time low."

"Hence the gala," Madhu said, patting the corner of her mouth with a napkin after pushing her chair away from her half-eaten dinner. "I'm done."

"Where're you going?"

"Out."

"We need to decide the menu for your gala."

"Just repeat whatever we served last time okay." She stood up. "I'm getting late."

She already was late, by over twenty minutes, for Shikha's Diwali cum housewarming party. Her decision to give up the lease on Madhulika's old flat was seemingly innocuous, yet that didn't help soothe Madhu's conscience.

Stepping into the open parking lot of the restaurant, she had to stop and blink a few times.

Nine days later, her eyes still found it hard to adjust to the overall brightness of Delhi. The fluorescent glares of streetlights. The flirtatious blinking of Diwali fairy-lights. The brilliant whiteness of billboards. The noisy band lights of Punjabi wedding processions. The piercing headlights of oncoming traffic. It was everywhere.

Even as she drove, the glowing speedometer managed to stick a pin through her head.

Perhaps she needed to book an appointment with her optometrist.

She made a mental note to do that coming weekend. Deep down though, Madhu knew nothing was wrong with her eyesight. She was just unable to let go of the shades of Bhabra and readapt to the hues of Delhi.

Shikha's party screamed overcompensation.

Madhu was aware that was a mean thought, but it was clear every other person over there was thinking the same. She had taken refuge near the life-sized glass window that looked down upon the twinkling city and made her feel less claustrophobic.

Strings of fairy lights had bathed the apartment a romantic magenta, which went well with Shikha's choice of pastel coloured furniture backed against deep blue painted walls.

Coke in hand, Madhu beelined towards an empty pouffe near the full wall window. Next to her, on a twin pouffe, was a man perhaps a few years younger who she vaguely remembered as Shikha's chef. He made polite conversation for a while before excusing himself to go to the restroom. Relieved, Madhu resumed observing half-drunk couples swaying to the music.

"You're being missed at the cards table." Shikha had dropped on the empty seat next to her. "We're like the only single people not trying to welcome Ma Laxmi."

Her obligatory chuckle stuck midway only to escape as a soda-induced burp through her nose. Shikha rubbed her back as she coughed. "I'm kind of down on my luck these days, it'll be unwise to gamble tonight."

"I heard. Talk about a vacation gone wrong."

"Yeah well, back home now." Madhu appraised her, properly, for the first time since arriving at the party. With colour and flesh returning to her dimpled cheeks and a healthy-looking bob of hair framing her face, Shikha was starting to resemble her old self again. Yet hints of shadows under her eyes peeked from beneath the layers of concealer. "How're you doing Hikka, really?"

"Better than before." A sigh escaped her as her smile dimmed a little. "He told me he was...seeing someone."

"Oh."

"I don't care, not about her."

"You don't?"

"No. I'm just mad that I'm affected by it you know? Like if I had cheated, he wouldn't have cared. So why do I feel betrayed?"

Her gaze was fixed on the empty glass, following the beam of deep pink it reflected. "You loved him," she whispered, as if that was the answer.

"That's the thing right? I loved him but he broke his promise. I don't know who she was, but it'll be stupid to blame her, she didn't owe me anything but I still can't help—"

"It was me," the words came rushing out. Her body was tired of keeping the virus in and was forcefully expelling it.

"What?"

There was no going back now. She had procrastinated for far too long.

Start by surrounding yourself with the truth.

"The...I was...Roshan...we had so much history and it just happened and then I just continued it and—"

Cutting off her babbling, Shikha only voiced two words. Quiet and flat. "How long?"

"A couple of years."

She closed her eyes, her features exposing a brief moment of weakness that hurt worse than any harsh word could, slicing open Madhu's stomach. Then she blinked and it was gone.

"Hikka—"

"Don't call me that." She looked around, checking to see if anyone was near enough to have heard Madhu's confession. "Don't create a scene. Don't leave without eating. That's the least you can do."

"Shikha I'm really sor—"

"Please. Go join the game, eat and then leave like everyone else. Or are you not done humiliating me?"

There was nothing Madhu could do except heed to her request. Words had failed her.

What was she supposed to say? Sorry not one but two people cheated on you? You did it first? It won't happen again? I didn't mean to hurt you?

Even in her head, they sounded like meaningless phrases. Empty vessels.

The night dragged on until it didn't. Until she had lost enough money to feed her dog for a year. Repentance money, she tried to tell herself.

It would've been better if she had slapped Madhu, or shouted at her, or called her names. Bitch, slut, homewrecker, traitor.

But no, Shikha carried on with her act of an ideal hostess, smiling brighter than before even if her cheeks looked paler. Her goodbye hug for Madhu wasn't the least bit different from her usual hugs. Warm and lingering, with her characteristic sideways sway before releasing her from the embrace.

"Drive safe okay? I'll see you soon."

Madhu almost believed the lie.

The roads were clear of all vehicles except transportation trucks. For one mad second, Madhu wanted to jerk her steering in the direction of one of the trucks. She wanted to be numb, wanted to get away from everything.

Instead, she took a turn towards South Ex, in the exact opposite direction of her hotel. The luxury condo building shone golden. Her car still had the sticker to be allowed in the society without the guard needing to ring his intercom.

Roshan answered the door within seconds of her ringing the bell. One look at her state and he wordlessly stepped aside to let her in.