Chandra sat and stared at the glowing red ball. The evening light glinted and she could make out the resemblance to her father. She now understood why he so reminded her of their father, their mannerisms were the same. Physically so different, so alike in mind and behaviour. Yet, a few traits rendered them so opposite too.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she thought of his childhood, but she did not know what to say. She placed a gentle hand on his arm.

Without looking at her, he spoke, "I grew up watching my parents being distant. I thought that was how parents would be, even though our grandparents were not like that. I never paid much attention either. Amma never appreciated what nanna did and nanna did not try hard enough to understand what exactly amma wanted.

Though to be fair, I do not think amma herself knew what she wanted. By the time I was sixteen, they had drifted so far apart that they hardly spoke to each other and were rarely in the same room together.

It was only after I got married, that I started to realise what marriage meant. There was no relationship between my parents, and what I thought was distance was actually silent aggression. Amma would always stay in her room complaining about her health, half of them fancied. And nanna was rarely at home, always travelling on work, though now I realise half of that was an excuse."

"He was always here. Mostly, for he never came for any of my birthdays."

"And that is due to Amma."

Her grip on his hand tightened at those words and he patted her hand.

"It is a long story but I shall try to be brief.

Amma had organised a large party for my eighteenth birthday. I was not too keen on it, but then did not object. It was later that I found out the true reason; she had heard rumours of another woman in nanna's life and was determined to prove that they were false. A public display that he was her husband and would be by her side was her idea of squashing those rumours.

I thought and still think, it was a stupid idea and wrong too. Why bother showing the world when it was apparent to everyone in our family and friends circle that you never cared about each other? I had rarely seen them talk to each other, and I do not think they were seen together for any public functions either. There were hardly any photographs where they shared the same frame.

But I was young, and a party was a reason to celebrate. Instead, it became a cause to destroy my parents' relationship forever.

The party started at seven but we kept waiting for nanna to come. Finally almost an hour and a half later, when we could not contact him we went ahead with the cake cutting and the rest of the activities. Amma was seething and at the end of the day, we knew that amma was never going to forgive nanna for not turning up, irrespective of the reason.

Nanna came two days later, tired but relieved, with a never before twinkle in his eyes. And when we found out the reason, all hell broke loose, amma was livid. Her anger could be justified but not the hysterical accusations she flung about. But the worst thing she did was an act of petty revenge, she blackmailed nanna into promising that my birthday was the last day he would be with you.

She meant it differently but nanna lived by the literal interpretation."

It took her a few minutes but then it sank in, "We share a birthday?"

It was an incredulous whisper. Of all the reasons she had tried to come up with, this one had never been possible. She was sure her mother had not known either.

"So nanna was never there for my birthday because he would spend it with you?"

"Of course not, nanna was weak in some matters but he was not going to chose one of us over the other. Nanna was never at my home for my birthday, he would stay out of the house or go on his business trips. We are lucky that we do not share the same birthday as per the Telugu calendar. Nanna lived most of his life with your mother and a ton of guilt, which further infuriated my mother.

My mother was miffed but there was nothing she could do, stubborn nanna kept his promise, though it was not what amma had intended. It broke his heart to do that, but given the circumstances he found himself in, he felt it was the best thing he could do."

Gāyathri realised that her parents had hidden certain things from each other and a lot of tiny things from her, but added together they made a big lie. But maybe she could start making amends for her behaviour.

"Happy birthday, annaya."

The last was a slip, but she meant it. Only she was not sure how he would take it, being addressed as a brother. The joy that lit up his face answered her, and any doubts were washed away when he replied,

"And to you too, baby sister. So will you come home to us?"

That was a tough question to answer. Could she go with them? They were her family too but the bitterness of the truth ate into the joy of being accepted. And then there were the practical issues.

"I am not sure. I have my studies..."

"If that is the only reason, it is fine. You can continue your studies here, but promise you will keep in touch. And spend the holidays with us. That is the minimum I ask."

Gāyathri nodded, that was doable and a wonderful solution, giving her the time and opportunity to get used to them. Most were nice except for her Vani Atta. She recalled what she had overheard.

"One more thing, I am not getting married to Anand, whoever he might be?"

"Where ever did you get that idea?"

" I rather not say. But you are not surprised about Anand, so you know him. So will you promise me that?"

"I know Anand, he is a nice kid. A couple of years older than you. I am not sure how and what you heard of him, but I am not going around arranging for the two of you to get married. You could meet him and maybe you could be friends but I draw the line at that. No talking of marriage till you are twenty-four or twenty-five, at least and have a clear idea of what you want to do in life. No nonsense of falling in love and..."

"...so now I am immature. Incapable of deciding things on my own. You have already taken up the role of the big brother. What else are you going to insist I do?"

Gāyathri stilled as she realised what she had done; she had been laughing, joyously and carefree. Was it right to do so, when her parents had died just six weeks earlier?

Chandra spoke as if he had heard her thoughts, "Firstly, I promise I will not be the overbearing big brother. And secondly, you will always miss them, nothing can take away that pain. But you have to know, remembering them does not mean you forget those who are with you, around you. Grieving for them does not mean that you stop laughing, feeling sorrow does not mean you cannot feel joy too. You will always love them but it does not mean you stop living. Life goes on, and you have to stop feeling guilty for living on. You honour them if you remember them with laughter rather than tears."

Despite the constant tears that refused to cease, she answered with a smile, "Wise words, must be Lavanya vodina's?"

It was surprised them both, the ease with which she addressed Lavanya as her sister in law. When he simply nodded, awkwardness seeped in and she hurried, "Surprising how such a wise woman married you. I guess even wise people have their moments of folly."

The moments those words slipped out, she felt a frisson of fear, maybe she had been too hasty. She had said it in jest, but how was he to know? What if he were offended? She did not want to lose the newfound affection but he answered before she could say another word.

"You are right, I often wonder too, as does she. But do not remind her, please, I would not want her to try to correct her mistake?"

The twinkle in his eyes reassured her, far more than his words did. Comfortable silence reigned and Gāyathri reached out to the small bag beside her. She had forgotten why exactly she had come to the river bank. Untying the knots, she spilled the pieces of paper into her lap, the pleats making a basket..They were her father's notes, which she had spent the past few days, tearing into the tiniest pieces possible, in anger, frustration and weariness.

Holding her skirts, she carefully stood and stared at the setting sun, when she heard the familiar cry, "Atta, atta, attaa... happy birthday to you!"

She almost stumbled as she turned and her eyes went misty again. On the edge of the riverbank, a little off the highway, stood her family.

She watched them; her grandparents, Lavanya and the kids, her tatha, her uncle and aunt and her cousins. Her full family, one which she had thought had been denied to her. But one that had only been delayed, by the fears and insecurities of her parents. If only...no, she was not going down that path again. No more fearing what would happen or wondering how it would be different. And though she would always miss her parents, she was going to live her life with her family, the one that she had always wanted.

Her fingers clutched the folds of her skirt, She loosened her fingers and shook her skirt, the fragments flying in the gentle breeze. Once again gathering the pleats, she tucked them in the waistband and without looking back, said, "Race you to them."

She ran without waiting for a reply, knowing somehow that he would follow her. She ran to the cheers of the waiting family, to the thundering footsteps of her brother behind her. She ran towards a future that she would build for herself, she ran towards love and laughter.

The wind fluttered on lazy wings and gently swirled the fallen scraps of paper. The fragments floated up and whirled as the breeze picked up a frenzy. The river glinted gold and gathered the flying fragments in its currents, dead pieces of wood with dried pigments that now had no place in the lives of those who were alive.