Nitya

"Won't this be too much?" I ask Dhritiji, looking at myself in the mirror, adjusting the shawl over my suit. "If everyone returned home and saw me in these clothes, I'll get in huge trouble."

"Don't worry, Bhabhi. Nothing will happen," Dhritiji says, handing me the pair of earrings to go with my blue salwar suit. "Taiji had called me two hours back. She told me that everyone will be staying out tonight. She didn't say much to me, only told me that all of them would be returning home tomorrow morning."

I bite my bottom lip, glancing at my reflection in the mirror, still unsure about my attire. Prathamji had complimented me when I wore salwar suit in the city, but what if he does not like me wearing it here in the village.

"But if—" I begin to say when she interrupts me.

"You told me earlier about Bhaiyya complimenting you when you wore green salwar suit in the city. Wear this blue one tonight, Bhabhi. He will definitely compliment you tonight too."

"But this is village, Dhritiji. What if he doesn't like it?"

"Why would he not like it? He definitely would. I'm sure Bhaiyya won't be able to take his eyes off you tonight."

Warmth rushes within me as I remember the way Prathamji had looked at me that day in the city.

Will he also look at me the same way tonight?

Blush creeps up my cheeks as I imagine his intent gaze on me.

Dhritiji nudges my arm, quirking her eyebrow as her lips curve in a teasing smile. "Kinke khayalon mein kho gayin, Bhabhi?"

("On whose thoughts are you lost, Bhabhi?")

Without answering, I shake my head at her, smiling shyly when she nudges my arm again.

"Okay, okay. Don't tell me. Anyway, I know about whom are you thinking," she says. "But, Bhabhi, you will wear this suit, right? If you want to wear saree, wear it. I won't stop you. But if you want to wear this suit, wear this. It's okay to live for yourself too, Bhabhi. There is no need to do everything according to others' wishes every time."

Pondering on her words, I realize she is right. "Umm, I'll wear this suit. As you said, everyone will be returning home tomorrow morning. So, I can wear this tonight."

Dhritiji beams at me. "Yeh huwi na baat. Jab Bhaiyya ghaur lautenge aur aapko dekhenge, woh dekhte hi reh jayenge."

("That's the spirit. After Bhaiyya comes home and sees you in this attire, he will be unable to take his eyes off you.")

With my smile widening due to her words, I watch her as she slides the matching bangles into my hands.

*****

"You had said that Bhaiyya would return within an hour. But it's been three hours now, Bhabhi," Dhritiji says, pacing in the living room. "I'll call the factory and check if he is still there."

I nod, trying to keep my worry at bay as I wait for her to talk with someone at the factory, praying for Prathamji to be safe.

After talking briefly with someone on the phone, she hangs up the call and looks at me. Her troubled expression making me nervous.

"The person who received the call said that Bhaiyya left from there just a few minutes back," she tells me. "He also said that Bhaiyya has some work to complete at the site near the factory, so it might take him one more hour to get home."

I sigh in relief after knowing Prathamji is fine. But along with relief, disappointment also rises within me. I had been hoping to go out and spend some time with him tonight.

"I'll go to the kitchen and make something for him. It's already too late to go out now and he'll be hungry when he returns."

Dhritiji follows me as I walk to the kitchen.

"This is not right, Bhabhi," she says, making me frown.

"What is not right?"

"Bhaiyya doing this to you," she replies. "He told you he would take you out for dinner, and you had been waiting for him for the last three hours. He didn't even call to say he can't make it tonight."

I force a smile, despite the disappointment bubbling within me. "It's okay. We can go out some other time."

Dhritiji shakes her head. "No. It's not okay, Bhabhi. Bhaiyya is taking you for granted and you doing nothing about it will only encourage him to continue doing it."

"What else can I do? Prathamji had said he had some work in the factory. Perhaps that's why he lost the track of time. Work is important too, Dhritiji."

"Yes. Work is important, Bhabhi. But you are important too."

At her words, I feel a pinch in my heart. Because I have no idea how important I am to Prathamji.

"Let it be, Dhritiji. I'll make something for Prathamji to eat. Shall I make something for you too?"

She regards me thoughtfully for a few seconds, before grinning mischievously. "Don't let it be, Bhabhi. Do something so that Bhaiyya will think twice before repeating this mistake."

"What do you mean?"

With her eyes sparkling with mischief, she leans toward me and whispers her plan to me.

My eyes widen with shock as I listen to her.

"No, no. What if he got angry?"

"Nothing will happen, Bhabhi. Muster up courage and do it. Sometimes, things like this help in strengthening the relationship."

When I continue looking at her and do not say anything for a while, Dhritiji sighs. "Do you want to do it or not?"

After thinking for a few seconds, I slowly nod my head.

*****

My sleep breaks when I hear the front door creak open.

Standing up from the chair, I look at Prathamji entering the house, frowning when I see two large packages in his hands.

He halts for a moment when he gazes at me, a small smile curves his lips as he steps closer to me. "I had thought green color suits you. But I didn't know blue color would suit you equally well too."

My face feels warm as I sense his appraising gaze on me. Slightly smiling, I say, "Thank you. I had worn this to go out with you. But you didn't come."

"I'm sorry I'm late," he says, setting down the packages on the floor. "So much work was pending at the factory that I didn't realize how late it had gotten when I finished it. And I also had some work out of the factory, so I had to go there, too, before returning home."

"It's okay," I say, my voice steady despite the disappointment gnawing at me.

"Where is Dhriti?" He asks, looking around.

"She is already asleep."

"Oh, okay," he says, smiling warmly at me, but when I don't smile back at him, he sighs, running his hand through his hair. "We could not go out tonight because of me. And I had told you not to make dinner too. So, you must be feeling hungry. Since it's my mistake, I'll be the one to correct it too. I'll quickly make something for dinner. Then, we'll eat together."

"I have already prepared the dishes," I tell him.

Really?" He asks, his surprise evident. "What have you cooked for dinner?"

"Karele ka pulao, karele ka kofta, bhuna huwa karela, aur karele ki chutney," she answers, smiling sweetly at him.

("Bitter gourd pulao, bitter gourd kofta, fried bitter gourd, and bitter gourd chutney.")

Hearing me, when Prathamji lifts the lids from the dishes on the dining table, his expression shifts from surprise to something close to shock. As he continues to silently stare at the dishes, I wonder if I pushed too far.

But then, to my astonishment, he starts to laugh. The deep, genuine laugh that fills the room and also makes my lips curve. After all, this is the first time I have heard him laugh.

I gaze at him, mesmerized by how handsome he looked with his features alighted by his laughter.

"I guess I deserve this," he says between chuckles. "Koi baat nahi. Aaj karela bhi khalunga."

("It's okay. I'll eat bitter gourd tonight.")

I stare at him, completely taken aback. "You'll really eat it? Dhritiji was saying that you never eat bitter gourd. Whenever it used to be made at home, either you would go out and eat or ask to cook something else for you."

A small smile plays on his lips. "Hmm, if Dhriti had told you, why did you make all these dishes?"

Flustered, I shuffle uncomfortably in my seat. "Woh aaj hum bahaar nahi jaa paye, isliye—"

("Umm, we could not go out tonight, that's why—")

"Tumhe bura laga?" He asks, interrupting me.

("You felt bad?")

When I nod at me, he reaches forward and clasps my hand in his. "Agli baar se nahi karunga," he says.

("It won't happen next time.")

The smile he gives me when he says that makes my heart flutter.

"I'll make something else for you. Don't eat this," I tell him.

"No. I'll eat all these dishes tonight," he says, serving himself the dishes on his plate. "Since I have made the mistake, it's important that I do the penance too."

"But, Prathamji, this—"

"You made these dishes for me, so I'll eat it. No more discussions," he firmly says.

After he serves the dishes on my plate too, he starts eating. I notice him grimacing slightly at the taste, but continues to eat with a few sips of water in between.

As I watch him, I feel my heart skip a beat. His willingness to accept his mistake, apologize for it, and even promising to never repeat it, has caused warmth to spread through me, melting away last bits of my disappointment.

*****

After the dinner, Prathamji and I clear the table and clean the kitchen.

Finishing the works, we are about to go to the room, when Prathamji walks toward the dining table to get his packages from the floor.

The way he is carrying them, they seem to be heavy. And I frown, curious to know what's in them.

I open my mouth to ask him, but stop when I hear the front door swing open.

My heart sinks when I see everyone entering the house along with Udayji.

Hurriedly walking to where Prathamji is standing, I put pallu over my head, feeling scared as I hear the loud gasps of shock from Maaji and Chachiji.