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Word Count - 4000 words.

Audio Theme : Jugraafiya | Super 30 |

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13 | Increased Propinquity & An Uncanny Encounter

"Papa! Papa!"

The loud and babyish babbling of a child pulled them out of their intensely fervent eye lock.

Hinduja proceeded to unlatch the ghungroos around her pale, willowy feet as Mahadevan crouched down to pick up his son, who was tweaking his formal black trousers to gain his attention. The boy instantly cocooned himself in his father's protective embrace, taking notice to which, his father smiled contently.

"I missed you, little bud." He gingerly planted a kiss on Anirudh's temple while fondly caressing his back.

The kid giggled for the umpteenth time as his parents found their gazes locked on each other again.

"I never apperceived that you danced." He said as he sauntered towards her.

Diverting her gaze away from his gait, she looked down and bit her bottom lip. Her cheeks paralleled bright red plums at the moment. "Well, I do."

"Careful!" He said this while leering at her sultry, flushed petals of sweetness that she was nibbling on unabatingly.

"Sorry?" She at once latched her obsidian swirls with his malty pools once again as confusion unfurled on her radiant phizog.

"Don't bite them. Biting lips often leads to painful blisters, and we don't want your lips bruised now, do we, little tigress?" He stated while simultaneously attempting to control the emerging smirk tugging at his lips, keenly observing her fidgety form.

And that was all it required for the woman in front of him to gasp. To say the least, she looked consummately gobsmacked.

Why though?

The woman in front of him---his wife---was never really good with intimate endearments.

"When did you come back?" She murmured after gulping.

"Just now." Affectionately rubbing the toddler's back once again, he continued. "I were to arrive back on Wednesday, but all the meetings and my work at the project site in general concluded before the designated time, so here I am, in front of you both." He proceeded to quirk his left eyebrow. "Why? You are not happy that I am back." He teased her.

"What?! no! Obviously I am happy!" She countered back cursorily.

"So, you are happy that I am back home? which means you felt the void of my absence, didn't you?" He essayed amusedly to inquest further.

Much to his displeasure, she dodged eye contact with him almost immediately.

He sighed in defeat.

Ten minutes later, Mahadevan laid a drowsy Anirudh on the Alaskan King four-poster bed of their prodigious bedroom. Sheathing the boy's tiny frame with a thin summer quilt, he got up from the bed and volte-faced to find his wife beholding both him and their child with a zephyr-like fond mien embracing her visage. However, the moment she sensed his gaze on her, she immediately evaded his eyes.

He couldn't help but smile in amusement.

"You want to unpack your travel bags now or later on?" She asked.

"I need a shower first."

"Okay, then, you go and freshen up. I am going to the kitchen." She said.

"Kitchen? You want to cook? Inu, we have the housekeeping staff for that; you don't need to do anything." He remarked, a weird mix of worry and vexation apparent on his face.

"Amma and Papa are coming today; I want to cook for them." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Oho? Preparing to impress the in-laws, are we?" Both the lenses of his rimless, rectangular specs gleamed under the bright light of the sconce as he poked fun at her with his right eyebrow raised.

"Point number one, Dogra Sahib, you do realize the fact that Amma was the principal of my alma mater and also my oratory mentor back in school, right? I don't need to impress her anymore because she was already in awe of me back then, which is why I am your legally married wife today." She sassed back with a lopsided smile.

And then it was his turn to stand like an utterly spellbound blockhead, his mouth wide open and his eyes comically enlarged.

"Now coming to point number two, it's those fragile little damsels in distress who impress. And I am not a persecuted maiden in dire need of impressing people around me to substantiate or extricate myself, Dogra Sahib; I never was, which is why I don't need to impress anyone. You know what I do instead?" She asserted with her left brow quirked, every word rolling off her tongue, dripping with undaunted confidence. "Women of will, strength, and character don't impress Dogra Sahib; they conquer. And that's exactly what I do---I observe, I analyze, I conquer." Saying so, she started treading towards the door.

And he stood there just like that, thoroughly astounded and bedazzled at the same time. And if his jaw was wide open before, now it thoroughly resembled one of those drainage manholes dug up on the main roads.

On the spur of the moment, something dawned on him, something he desperately wanted an answer to. "By the way," he vacillated.

"Did you . . ." He gulped.

The dulcet tapping of her feet against the carpet came to a halt as she turned around to look at him.

Mahadevan's palms perspired, and his archly carved eyelashes fluttered in a frail attempt to maintain direct eye contact with his wife's sable swirls. "Did you miss me?" He whispered. Her eyes twinkled as she tried to contain the emerging tint on her cheeks, whereas his toes curled in fervid anticipation.

Clutching the edges of her off-white dupatta tightly in her hands, she downcast her eyes and turned around to cross the threshold of their bedroom. His shoulders dropped, and his eyes dimmed, longingly gazing in her direction just as her footfall ceased again.

Hope flickered in a pair of chestnut-hued pupils anew.

"I did." The silhouette in pale pink vaulted over the doorsill and disappeared into the comforting silence of the Dogra Manor just as the man's eyes glistened with a newfound feeling of euphoria.

"Yes!" Mahadevan fist bumped in the air, his ears and cheeks a shade of pink, and his lips upturned in a sheepish grin.

***

Instructing the sous chef to stir the contents of the non-stick vessel every four minutes, she walked out of the kitchen as she heard some voices echoing in the great hall of the Dogra manor.

Just as she ventured into the great hall, she found herself getting secured in a balmy and motherly hug.

"How are you?" Manasvini Dogra vocalized ebulliently.

"I am fine; how are you, Amma?" Hinduja crouched down to touch her mother-in-law's feet and seek her blessings.

"On top of the world, as always!" She shot back, her voice full of energy, while softly caressing the crown of Hinduja's head.

"And Papa?"

"That antique piece I am married to? He . . ." Manasvini quizzed and then roamed her eyes around the entire great hall when her gaze finally stopped on a tall male figure standing in front of an abstract painting hanging on one of the gigantic Dogra manor walls. "There he is! On his feet with his rotten ass intact as always," she said while projecting her forefinger at the erect figure of her husband.

As if on record, the old man hollered back, "I am not old; you are!" Shubhankar Dogra then ambled towards the two women standing next to the entrance of the manor's kitchen.

"Old my ass! You better shut your mouth."

The soon-to-be twenty-six-year-old Collector tried to stop the chuckles emerging out of her mouth as she bowed down to touch her father-in-law's feet.

"God bless, princess." A benign smile outspread on the elderly man's handsome face, amalgamated with a few ridges hither and thither.

The young woman pleasantly smiled back.

Princess

No one had ever addressed her with this sobriquet.

"Where is he?" Her mother-in-law questioned, her hands authoritatively perched up on her waist.

"Who?" She counter-questioned her mother-in-law in confusion.

"Arey! Your husband, my good for nothing son---- where is Goldie?"

"I am here, Maa."

A masculine and baritone voice resonated in the colossal hall of the majestic Colonial establishment.

Hinduja looked on as her husband wended his way towards them while adjusting his glasses with the tip of his index finger, clothed in a pair of comfy black trousers and a white polo t-shirt.

Approaching his mother, the man took her in a side hug and stepped back, smiling placidly at her.

"Oh, the holy citizen of the British empire, who is it that will touch my feet and take blessings?" The fifty-nine-year-old woman elbowed her son on his waist. "Tera Pyo?!" She bellowed out funnily.

"What do you mean by 'tera pyo', Manu? And why do you always involve me when the children make mistakes?" Shubhankar interrogated with jocular indignation, half amused, half irritated.

"Well, it's due to your involvement that the three of them were born. I didn't create them alone." She reposted back and then shrugged her shoulders, boasting a nonchalant expression on her face.

Two people awkwardly cleared their throats, while the third person, notably a female, choked on her saliva.

"Maa, please, not your PG-13 jokes again!" Mahadevan retorted almost immediately while gently rubbing his wife's back. The poor woman was caught in a coughing fit.

Hinduja somehow stabilized her breathing.

"Oy, all of us here are eighteen above. Aur tu pair choo pehle mere!"

Mahadevan immediately followed up with what he was asked to do by his mother. He then advanced to touch his father's feet as well, after which he just nodded at him and went on to stand next to his wife. There was no exchange of expressions or dialogue between the father-son duo.

Something felt odd in their interaction.

"Where is my baby?" Hinduja watched on in amusement as her mother-in-law tossed her next query on the table.

"He is sleeping in the bedroom." She answered with a faint smile.

"Okay then, I am going up to see him."

"Okay, Amma." She nodded her head, gazing fondly at the older couple, and then said, "Since it's already nine p.m., how about you bring Anirudh along with yourself while coming back, after which we can have dinner? Till then, I'll ask someone to keep your luggage bags in your room.

"We'll have dinner here, but there is no need to keep the luggage in our rooms, princess; we are here for just three hours. Our next flight to New York is scheduled for two a.m. Shubhankar said as he dotingly gazed at the young girl in front of him.

"You both are not staying here?" Hinduja looked on downheartedly.

"Unfortunately, no, princess."

"Okay." A crestfallen smile tugged at her lips.

The next morning, Hinduja woke up late, which was quite contradictory to her everyday habits. Nobody had woken her up. She groggily tried to locate her husband and her toddler in the room, but both of them were not around.

The malaise in her abdomen and the dampness between her legs forced her to get up from the bed and venture out into the bathroom. And sure enough, it was exactly what she deduced it to be---her monthly guest.

But then it crossed her mind that she didn't have any sanitary pads in her luggage at the moment.

She stepped out of the bathroom to find her husband keenly surveying something on her side of the bed. Moving closer to him, she turned her gaze to what he was so intently peering at.

Oh no!

Alas! There it was, on the pristine white bedsheet, a bright crimson blot, a sign of her womanhood.

Mahadevan first stared at the red spot and then gaped at his wife's shaky frame and then at her flushed face, turning a degree carmine by every fleeting second. "You draw and paint as well?"

Hinduja gauchely gaped at her husband and said, "That's not paint!"

"Then what is it?" He probed further, completely oblivious to the entire ordeal.

"It's---" She looked down at her wiggling toes. "It's blood."

"What! Where are you hurt?!" Thoroughly worried, he immediately grabbed her shoulders and heaved her towards himself. He carefully examined her hands and arms first, and then her face. He then turned her around to examine her neck and the posterior side of her torso when his scrutinizing gaze ultimately went downward and he noticed something on her rear. "You are hurt on your bum?" Bemusement was clear as day in his dark brown pools.

Turning herself around in a trice, Hinduja shrieked, "I am not hurt on my bum! I am menstruating, and that's my period blood!" She looked at him completely horrified at his weird guesses.

In the blink of an eye, the man blushed like a newlywed bride. "Oh." Then, introspecting about something deeply, he said, "Do you need my help in anything?"

"Just call Poorna here, please." She replied hurriedly.

"Oh, okay." And he bolted out of the door in a trice.

Five minutes later, Poorna, the head of the Dogra Manor housekeeping staff, walked into the room.

"Yes, madam, you summoned me." The woman bowed her head.

"Yeah, do we have any sanitary pads in the supply chamber as of now?" Hinduja dove straight to the point without beating around the bush.

"No, madam; actually, none of the female members of the family had resided in the manor for a very long period of time, so the supply chamber was not restocked with any of the female sanitary essentials. Sorry for intruding, but do you need the pads for yourself?" The lady asked cautiously.

"Yes."

"In that case, madam, if you don't mind, can I provide you with a packet from my personal stash?"

"Will that be fine with you?" Hinduja counter-questioned, half relieved, half hesitant.

"Absolutely madam! Please wait here; I'll get it for you." The lady smiled reassuringly at her.

"By the way, can you please fetch me two buckets and some detergent powder on your way as well?"

"Madam, please, you can put all your clothes in the laundry. We have female attendees present there as well; they'll wash it for you."

"No, please; I would like to do it on my own. And yes, I have removed the previous bed linen and the pillow covers; please ask someone to spread a new one."

"Sure, madam."

"One more thing, where is Anirudh?"

"He is with Karim sir, madam."

"Alright."

After a slight bow of the head, the woman got out of the bedroom.

After taking a long and refreshing bath, she immediately clothed herself in a fresh pair of clothes. She then proceeded to hand wash the previously spread bed linen in a mixture of detergent and water in the first bucket, and then she soaked her stained pieces of garments in a mixture of warm water, detergent, and some liquid fabric softener in the second bucket and kept it aside in the far left corner of the massive and chic Edwardian-era bathroom.

Carrying the freshly washed bedsheet in her hands, she stepped out of their bedroom and handed it over to a staff member nearby for drying.

She then came back inside again and blow-dried her hair. Tying it in a simple ponytail, she applied some moisturizer to her face and a bit of lip balm to her lips. Subsequently, wrapping the dupatta around her chest and shoulders, she made her way out of the bedroom into the vestibule area. She then climbed down the stairs and ventured straight into Anirudh's playroom.

And as per her predictions, she found both her husband and her child exactly there, along with Karim, both of whom were deeply involved in a game of chess.

The toddler, on the other hand, was gaping queerly at the physiognomies of both the elderly men in front of him, completely mystified by what that black and white object they were playing with was.

The moment the boy sensed her presence, he knocked down the entire board game, causing all the chess pieces to fly around. The two men around him ululated in exasperation, as her son scurried towards her. "Mamma!" His dark black curls jiggled, and his puffy red cheeks wobbled as he hugged her legs.

She laughed in glee as she crouched down to pick him up.

A few wet kisses, some random blabbering, and a few hugs later, the mother-son pair finally paid attention to the two men sitting on the floor. One of them had his gaze fondly fixated on them, while the other one was staring grievously at the scattered chess pieces. Karim looked like a petulant child who would burst into tears any second.

"I apologize on his behalf, Karim Bhai." Hinduja struggled to stop the amused smile emerging on her visage.

"No, no, it's okay." The 41-year-old man with a slight salt and pepper mane answered back.

"Alright." Faintly smiling at him, she then shifted her gaze at the heftily built, bespectacled man sitting next to Karim and said, "Dogra Sahib, can you please come outside for a second?"

Nodding his head, Mahadevan got up and walked out of the playroom along with his wife and son. The moment they were in the vast corridor, he immediately wound his robust left arm around Hinduja's waist, hauling her close to himself. "Are you okay? Is there any sort of physical discomfort that you are going through?" He said this, tenderly fondling her flushed left cheek.

"I am completely fine, but I need something."

"Come on, tell me, what do you want?" He asked her.

"I searched on the internet, but I found that there are absolutely no supermarkets within even a two-kilometre radius of the mansion. Why so?"

"This manor and a large chunk of the land around it are part of our ancestral property, Inu. On top of that, it's a green zone, which is why, other than government officials and members of our own family, no one else is allowed to enter this region. Even the forest officials who are posted here to take care of the guava orchards, estates, and maple groves here have to first get their identities cross-verified using their biometrics---- then only are they allowed to enter inside the main gate. You won't find any supermarkets or convenience stores here because this is a heavily guarded area with extreme security detailing."

"Oh, now, I know. Yesterday, when Vijay Bhai was dropping us here, the security guard at the main gate didn't let Bhai in until he saw mine and Anirudh's face." She voiced out thoughtfully.

"Exactly---" He smiled feebly as he watched his son play with the nuptial chain around his wife's slender neck. "By the way, you want to go to a supermarket?" he asked.

"Yes, actually, I need a few essentials." She replied in nervousness.

"Okay, then, leave Anirudh with Karim. I know a supermarket that is a bit far away from here, but it's always well-equipped; I'll drive you there." He stroked her cheeks one last time and walked away to fetch his car keys.

Hinduja had her stygian swirls of twilight fixated delicately on the distant gait of her husband.

His attentiveness and his high regard for the needs of the people around him were two such innate characteristic traits of his personality that she had grown immensely enamoured of.

*** 

They were far ahead of the main exit and were a few minutes away from the supermarket Mahadevan had spoken about.

Taking a left turn, he slowed down the black Range Rover near the parking area and then finally pulled on the brakes. He adjusted the mask on his facial profile and then wore a cap, after which they both got out of the car from their respective sides and wended their way into the supermarket nearby.

"What do you want?" He asked her.

She downcast her eyes while scratching the back of her hands and whispered, "Uh, sanitary pads." Licking both lips, she continued, "I didn't have any with me, so I borrowed a pack of sanitary pads from Poorna, but a single packet won't last for the whole duration of five days, plus I need to return the one I borrowed from her as well, so I need to purchase a few packets of sanitary pads."

Mahadevan affectionately gazed at the little woman in front of him, her eyes downcast and her supple cheeks a deep shade of rubicund.

He gently poked both sides of her roly-poly flushed cheeks with the tips of his index fingers, removed his mask and then gently brushed his lips against the top of her head. "Why are you so adorable, little tigress? You know, you don't need to feel shy in front of me, okay?" He breathed into her left ear.

Resembling a juicy, ripe tomato, she immediately scurried away to the next aisle while he convulsed with laughter watching her state.

His shy little tigress.

"Hinduja?" The frail voice of a woman echoed behind Mahadevan. "Hinduja?! Oh my god, is that you, my child?"

Mahadevan turned around in uncertainty to face an age-enfeebled elderly lady dressed in a yellow cotton saree, ambling slowly towards him with the help of a wooden walking cane encrusted with silver carvings.

"Hinduja!" She called out his wife again, but after getting no response in return, she instead redirected her visual organs to peer at him. "Are you her husband? I heard she got married." She asked him with a fragile smile.

"Yes, I am her husband." He nodded his head once with a gentle tug of his lips. "May I know your name, ma'am?" He asked her.

"I am Poornima Dixit; I used to be Hinduja's neighbour almost nine years ago. I hope she is pink of her health now." She asked with a hint of genuine consideration reflecting in her tone.

Mahadevan's brows knitted as he looked perplexedly at the old woman in front of him. "Pink of health? Aunty, I am sorry, but I didn't get it. Why won't Hinduja be in good health? I mean--" He inquired in puzzlement.

"You don't know?" Now the senior citizen looked skeptical herself.

"What?" He probed further.

"Arey, the child, was in so much torment when she was sixteen. I don't know what really transpired, but suddenly she was not doing mentally well. Hallucinations, depression, panic attacks, randomly stopping people passing by in front of her house to tell them weird things----something like a murder, if I am guessing right----she went through all these mental health issues. Once, she had even hightailed to the nearby police station, apparently, to complain about something uncanny. Eventually, her mother completely locked her up at their home itself, and then a month later, all of a sudden the family left. I hypothesize it was due to her father's posting at another place but who knows what really ensued." The lady continued her monologue, still deeply entangled in the thoughts of the past. "It's better they left; the senior Rao couple, that is, Hinduja's paternal grandparents anyway, didn't like her at all. How could someone dislike their own grandchild? no matter how ill she was, that too, such a sweet little girl? She was reserved but very kind, gentle, and helpful. You know, she used to tutor my grandchildren at that time as well. I don't know what really happened, but some of our old neighbours used to say that it could be due to the untimely demise of her maternal grandmother. They were really close, like water and milk."

Just as she finished with her soliloquy, her phone rang from inside her purse - a classic tune of Gayatri Mantra.

Taking the phone out of her purse, she received the call in front of him.

"Haan Babu?"

..

"Achaa, you are waiting for me outside?"

..

"Okay, okay, I am coming." She hung up the call.

Then she turned around, and flashed a benignly gentle smile at him, "I need to go now beta; my grandson is waiting outside. But please tell Hinduja about me, okay? Tell her that Poornima Granny misses her. I stay in the Aravalli enclave, nearby. You are most welcome to visit me along with her whenever you are free. I'll make her favourite coconut barfi; she used to love them. Bye! " Saying so, she slowly walked off to the exit.

Mahadevan stood there, gazing at the distant gait of the frail elderly woman.

A wide range of thoughts galloped at a high frequency in his mind as he finally saw his wife approaching him with a paper bag clasped in her right hand.

Mystification and abstruseness were always an integral part of his wife's personality.

And he was well aware of this, after all.

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