Ahalya, Day 10

"I can't fathom that Mr Vishwamitra came back here." Those were Indira's opening lines. She wore blue jeans and a bright red top, leaning so close into her husband's chest.

I didn't expect to see the power couple so soon again. But here they were, in our living room, laughing at each other's jokes. It happened out of the blue. One minute, I was taking a nap and the next, Vishwa was dragging me out of my bed, prepping me with last-minute details like he was a lawyer and me, a drunken client.

Jagadeesh and Indira sat on the sofa opposite the TV, leaving no space for air between them. They could be faking the intimacy or just being a cute couple. It was hard to tell. Unlike the other day, Jagadeesh fit into the fashion with a simple check shirt and brown pants. I would dare say they seemed like opposite sides of the same coin.

"I believed you were done with Aranyavaram," Indira went on. "You have a kick-ass Instagram account and a best-selling book. I got to admit, I've literally never been this surprised."

I glanced at her, wondering. She forgot the fact he also got himself a talented fiancée. Perhaps I didn't fit the package she was seeing on him.

My mother-in-law sat in a chair in the corner with a hand under her chin, watching us talk.

Vishwa shifted beside me, aggravated. "Will you stop that?"

"She can't do that. Believe me, I tried." Jagadeesh cut in. "Ever since we heard you came here, she's rambled on about how shocked she was. It's like a radio on static."

Indira nudged him with her elbow, and everyone laughed. I fake it though, but that wasn't important. I was at a crossroads about why I disliked her.

"But I love your page a lot." Jagadeesh looked at me when he said it, making me feel important. "I read your book and followed every little cartoon."

If he followed us, he would know of the mishap I had caused in the comment section. My throat stiffened in anxiety. I wasn't ready if he would bring up that issue, and sighed in relief when he didn't.

Indira slid down on the sofa, covering herself. "I'm afraid he's going to be like this and embarrass me."

"It's a fact," Jagadeesh said, and she dismissed him.

"At least, he acknowledged my son's page," Yamuna said. "Unlike the others."

"Is this about me? I think it's about me." Indira straightened again. "Oh, please. I have known your son since he was nine, running on this muddy road, shirtless. I've listened to all his imaginary creations, dramas and characters. I am his first fan if you've to count."

Vishwa took my hand and pressed it. Why? Did he expect I would retaliate for her 'first-fan' comment? She would've to do better to shake my core.

Vishwa threw his head back and yelled, "Why are we even talking about our page? Don't we have like a zillion other topics to talk about?"

Indira scoffed. "What else is new?"

"Your son, for example."

Yamuna bent forward in her chair and said, "He's right. You should've brought Ayaan here. Why are you both so lazy to carry your kid around?"

"She told me his cries and tantrums would bother you," Jagdeesh complained.

Indira slapped her hands on her thighs. "Are you selling me out?"

"You are so not the mother of the year," Vishwa said and she turned to us, wide-eyed.

"Do you even consider this old soul?" Yamuna's voice dominated us all. "I'd excuse myself from this fanatical debate only if I have Ayaan in my hands right now."

A brief silence took over for a few minutes and then let go, letting Indira direct Vishwa towards a new topic. So far, I have contributed zero dialogues. Jagadeesh didn't have much to offer either and both of us smiled in intervals and that was it.

Vishwa and Indira's childhood experiences told me how ignorant I'd been of my fiancé's other part of this world. They poked me to know more about him. There was a lot I hadn't known of him. He used to make the best paper boats. He was top of the class in high school. He had an obsession to draw this house all the time. Yamuna said that it wasn't an obsession, but Indira reminded her how she'd discarded those drawings while Vishwa had shut himself in his room after his father's death.

Personally, I never heard any of these stories before. Vishwa caught me listening, his eyes steady on my face. He must fear I would know too much now. It was his conviction. Give only a part of ourselves to the people in our life, and we wouldn't be broke if they leave us. He wanted me to love him with the parts he would give. And I did. It was only fair. I'd given too much, but he never complained.

Vasu interrupted the flow, walking in with a tray. We waited, while he offered each a glass of pineapple juice. The cups of ice cream remained on the tray. He placed it down, shot me a glance and strolled away.

"I don't understand what to make of this Bhanu's situation," Indira said, leaning back with her glass.

The atmosphere turned grim as I enjoyed the cold juice surging down my throat.

"Any luck with the reward in the paper?" Jagadeesh asked.

No one answered, and he nodded, making his conclusion.

"It's okay," Yamuna said. She changed her posture, placing one leg over the other. "She'll be fine. I'll bring her back."

"I pray this ends soon," Indira said. "The people in the village are going mental over this issue."

Later, she threw her straw into the tray and gulped down the juice in one go.

"So Ahalya, how do you like the village?" Indira asked and all the eyes turned to me.

I eyed the village head, guessing why I deserved this sudden spotlight. "It's peaceful. The greenery here is more than I've ever seen in my life."

"Do you like flower nurseries?"

"I've never been to one," I said.

"I have the best nursery in this district. It's a kilometre north of the temple. You should stop by someday. Vasu could take you there."

Why didn't she say Vishwa could take me there?

"Speaking of nursery," Yamuna chimed in. "What about the chrysanthemums for the festival? We need at least fifty garlands for the temple alone."

"You don't worry, aunty," Jagadeesh said. "The order arrives four days before the festival. We'll be more than prepared."

"The festival is a big deal here," I remarked.

"It's the single most celebration of this village," Vishwa said, stressing every syllable. "Lives and prestige would be on the line if anything goes wrong."

Indira locked eyes with me again. "I hope you are staying until the day. I have a hunch you'll love our celebrations."

"Do you think I'm letting them leave anytime soon?" Yamuna said, checking us from the corner of her eyes.

And we laughed sheepishly.

Once we grabbed the ice cream bowls, the chat ebbed and flowed with ease between us. The sun had set, and the orange seeped inside. To our right, a rack of heavy books took some shine in the light. The breeze from the ceiling fan wasn't anywhere enough. Vishwa told me the first thing he had planned for the next renovation was to install air conditioners.

Jagadeesh and Yamuna discussed how Ayaan was coping with this summer. He said something I couldn't hear. Then, she reminded him of the vaccines the child must get by now.

Indira inquired about the mango forest surrounding us and the turnout it gave this year. Vishwa offered his suggestion about the next crop in the village should be corn. And Indira squealed, saying she had the same idea. Not once did she act as a village head. Or does she prefer to be like this with Vishwa? I had my share of suspicions.

Jagadeesh was asking about the renovation when Indira took over. "I hope you are not degrading the place. It has a glorious history."

"What do you mean by degrading? I'm making repairs to this glorified sandcastle."

"I do not love these nicknames," Yamuna said, and Vishwa shrugged.

"Have you toured the house yet, Ahalya?" Indira asked me.

Why does it matter to you? I wished I had said that.

"I did," I said instead.

"Are you sketching the hell out of it?"

I avoided Vishwa. I knew he'd like to know my answer. "No. We are on a vacation here. He's not writing anything. I'm not drawing anything. It's a little pact we made."

"Wait?" Indira stared at my fiancé. "You are only writing now?"

"Yep." Vishwa didn't care to elaborate.

I could see the disappointment in Indira's eyes as if he had let her down. It was true they had been friends once, but her disappointment seemed to run deeper. Did she think he was the one who had drawn our first book? It wasn't like I didn't want him to. I wished he would. A lot of times.

I remembered the first time we'd sketched together: It was the third time I went over to his house in the city. He opened the door wearing night pants and slurping a smoothie. It was getting dark, and he asked me to stay over. We'd been intimate by then. I didn't see it as a big deal. But what happened next was a one time experience. After the sex, I sat on the bed and grabbed a canvas and a pencil. He slept on me, staring. 

We were almost naked and every time he moved, I'd bite my lip, shivering and the pencil would slip off the pad, ruining the sketch. I didn't count how many, but it was a night of ruined sketches. And I never loved spoiling my work more. Later, he sprung to a seating position. I didn't know what got into him. I thought he would ask me to stop, but he grabbed my hand. Then we drew. Together. Our palms journeyed across the canvas, fingers intertwined, and we giggled a lot. Our every movement was in harmony. That was when I discovered how talented he was. And how much I loved him.

"That's a bummer," Indira said, putting her bowl back on the tray. "We're planning to ask for your help."

Vishwa and I exchanged a confused gaze.

Then Indira turned to Yamuna. "The painting of the Goddess on the south wall?"

"Yes. It is an old painting of Goddess Kali, but it's damaged," Yamuna said. "It's a lost cause."

"What happened to it?" Vishwa asked.

"The painting's been chipped and faded. Vines grew over it. The wall itself was lofty." Yamuna said. "I never thought of reviving it."

"Well, you have two artists in your house. How smart of you?" Indira snapped.

"This is weird," Vishwa said. "I haven't painted in a while. The same goes for Ahalya too. Sketching is one thing, but painting demands a lot of work. We came here to—"

"I mean, we can try," I interrupted him.

It goes against everything we had decided, but I was suffocating staying at the house. Vishwa passed me a glimpse and I didn't understand if it was distress or fury.

"This village would be forever grateful to you," Indira said.

My mother-in-law's face wasimpassive. She knew we were on a no-working policy here. If I were to remainsilent, it might have made all the difference in the world. But I acted onimpulse. I put myself first. And it cost me everything.