"I understand, Mia, but that still doesn't justify your behavior." 

Unfortunately, Ashutosh had found himself between a rock and a hard place and had to break his Switzerland-like stance of not taking sides; there was no way he could remain neutral in the mother-daughter argument. 

"Appa, she selected an all-girls tour!" Maithili yelled. "Do you know what that means!?"

"No, I don't. Why don't you explain it to me?" 

The girl's hazel wonders swam with contempt as she watched her mother looking down at her parathas.

They were cold now: the parathas, not the situation. 

Mia ignored her father, "Amma, I am eighteen. I stay in a girls' hostel, agreed, but there are boys in my college. You do realize I work with them for hours unsupervised, right? Till when will you try and protect me, ha? Is it them who you don't trust, or is it me?"

Bhairavi rose from the table and turned her back towards her daughter; soft tremors rocked her body. 

Ashutosh had his work cut out for him; rushing towards his wife, he engulfed her in his arms. Not long after, he had large dark green patches adorning the front of his olive green uniform: a testament to his wife's unhappiness.

A minute passed in silence and then another; Bhairavi stepped out of the circle of solace her husband had offered, "Aiooo," she muttered between sobs, "You can't wear this to work. I will bring you your emergency ones," pausing, she looked back over her shoulder, "I am sorry, Kanna, I didn't realize that it would hurt you so. Give me a moment."

She left the husband and daughter and returned with a duplicate set of olive greens and an envelope; handing it over to them, she declared, "Mia, those are your tickets and documents. All I wanted was to spend some quality time with you. I know how you feel about me, but the truth is, this trip is highly rated. The weather would be perfect there this time of the year. Even the customers are gushing over it, calling it a once-in-a-lifetime experience." 

"Amma… "

Bhairavi held up her hand, "Please, let me finish." Taking a moment to contain herself, she added, "If this is how strongly you feel about it, then I won't force you to go, but I will. I have prepared everything to make your dad's stay comfortable. It's up to you to decide what you want to do. I have realized that I am not enough for you anymore."

"Amma…"

"It's alright, I will be fine in a few minutes; one last thing, I trust you as much as I trust Shree Rama, so never think otherwise."

With that, Bhairavi wiped the last of her tears and smiled, "Colonel, will you come to see me off at noon?"

"Of course."

"Thanks, Colonel. Alright, then, that's settled. Let's eat our cold parathas and put all this behind us." Bhairavi commanded. 

One moment she was shedding tears-the size of hailstones- and the next, her face was blank like someone had wiped her face off of emotions. The whiplash the woman gave her family was real.

It was scary. 

Ya, Bhairavi was scary like that. 

Five hours later, Ashutosh dropped the mother and daughter at the airport. How his wife had guilt-tripped their daughter that morning left no doubt in the soldier's mind that their coconut-hearted daughter, hard on the outside but soft on the inside, would never let her mother go to The Valley all by herself, especially not after the stellar, oscar-worthy performance Bhairavi had blessed them with.

After a one-hour flight from Amritsar to Delhi, the women followed the directions in the travel documents that brought them in front of a purple and white banner that read: ''The Dream Weavers welcome you."

A woman dressed in a matching purple and white combo of shirt and knee-length skirt welcomed them, "Hello, ladies! Mrs. Bhairavi Chopra and Maithili, I presume?"

The mother and daughter nodded in sync. 

"You ladies are right on time. Ready to experience an adventure of a lifetime?" The young woman hopped from foot to foot excitedly as if this was her dream job. 

Donning a casual gray T-shirt that did wonders to her curves, paired with Blue Jeans that flared at the ankles and her long hair pulled back from her face gracefully tucked into a bun that sat on the nape of her neck, Bhairavi was a vision. At forty-seven, she barely looked a day older than thirty. Mirroring the hostess's enthusiasm, she replied, "I was born ready, child! Bring it on!"

Amma, you don't leave any chance to embarrass me, do you? Maithili thought woefully; for the teen, the cringe was real. She stepped in front, hiding her mother from the hostess's view partially. Running a hand over the front of her burgundy T-shirt, she took her mother's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. A warning: can you please, for once, act like an adult and not a child on her first trip to Disneyland! 

"Yes, we are ready. Where to?" She asked matter-of-factly. 

***

"Oye hoye!" A woman who looked like she had lived a good life exclaimed as soon as the mother-daughter duo arrived at the holding area. She gave Maithili a once over and complimented, "Kinni soni kudi hai! Such a beautiful girl." she added in English and glanced at the crowd gathered around her as if seeking confirmation. 

All eyes turned to Maithili, the Soni Kudi, the only one who didn't look like she fit in. 

Color rose to Maithili's cheeks. "Thank you, aunty."

It was Bhairavi's turn to step in front of her daughter, a move her daughter had pulled barely minutes ago. "Of course, she is beautiful." She agreed, even as she suppressed an urge to fish out the tiny wooden box of kajal she always carried and apply a small, dark dot behind Mia's ears. 

To say that Bhairavi was superstitious was an understatement. She, according to her only child, was from the middle ages. Applying kajal was a practice followed by mothers and grandmothers to ward off any evil eye that might try to latch on to their children or grandchildren. 

Bhairavi scanned the crowd discreetly: 'Eight women, oh! Is that a foreigner!? What luck! None of them look like they are fostering bad intentions.' She concluded. Relieved, she smiled sweetly; she met everyone's eyes and declared, "I am Bhairavi, and this is my daughter, Maithili. I hope we can create wonderful memories together!"

"I promise you, aunty, I will leave no stone unturned to make that wish come true. I will show you a most excellent time!"

The eyes that were, as of then, glued on the Chopra ladies shifted to the dashing young man in purple pants and crisp-white, full-sleeve shirt, walking towards the group purposefully. 

"Hello, girls." The boy waved at the group good-naturedly, "I am Raghav Raina, your personal dream weaver. I will be your guide, best friend, and protector during this trip." rubbing his palms together, he added gleefully, "I am looking forward to entertaining you."

At about six feet tall, the boy with a voice like melted butter had the most captivating chocolaty eyes Bhairavi had ever seen. They reminded her of blooming lotuses for some reason. 

However, just before his ethereal beauty could blind her completely, a surprised pull of breath from somewhere to her right dragged her harshly back to the present. A slight turn of her head cleared her mind more than any cold shower ever could.

Bhairavi was instantly transported back to when Gaurav, a boy from Mia's third grade, had confessed his love to her. Even though everyone, including Mia, had laughed it off that day, she had been dreading a time her sweet, innocent baby girl would respond with an 'I love you too.'

Any doubt in Bhairavi's mind of whether her daughter was interested in the boy was crushed by how Mia was eyeing Raghav with hearts in her eyes. 

If she was being fair, Bhairavi couldn't hold Mia responsible for being enamored with their dream weaver. 

However, with Raghav looking and sounding the way he did, even though she couldn't justify calling him a red flag just yet, in Bhairavi's eyes, that's exactly what he was. The boy definitely checked all the boxes that had the potential to raise her blood pressure. 

And now, with this unexpected turn of events, Bhairavi, the overprotective mother, was scared. Also, she couldn't help but feel that this was her Bhagwanta's way of paying her back for keeping the complete truth of their trip from Maithili. 

Looking heavenwards, which, at the time, was an aesthetically decorated airport ceiling, Bhairavi sent a silent prayer to her beloved Lord Rama, asking him to watch over her daughter, before following it up with a guilt-filled apology: I am sorry, Bhagwanta; I will come clean to her and will tell her that she was right, and one of the reasons for choosing this trip was indeed to keep her away from boys!

Chapter Word Count: 1533
Word Count so far: 3792