‘This is exactly why I didn’t want to come home,’ I muttered. ‘I knew you’d try to stage a reunion.’
‘Well, why not? I thought you guys were in love!’
‘We were … or at least Ithinkwe were.’ I kept my eyes on the road as I tried to unclench my jaw. ‘But that was almost three years ago! We grew apart.’
He shook his head, likeIwas the one being unreasonable. ‘Kavu, people who grow apart can always find their way back to each other.’
‘Or, hear me out …’ I gave him a pointed look. ‘They can stay apart and be perfectly fine.’ I exhaled sharply through my nose, frustrated at him, frustrated at myself, frustrated that I could no longer have a single conversation with my brother without my ex being dragged into it.
Mussoorie Lake slipped into view on our left, half-hidden in the fog. I usually loved this stretch of the drive, but today, I didn’t slow down to take it in. The sooner I got out of this car and away from my brother’s matchmaking agenda, the better.
‘I’m just saying you should meet him. That’s all.’ He tried to wrap it up with a relaxed shrug, but the message was clear.Conversation paused, not finished.
We spent the rest of the drive pretending like everything was normal, even though he’d already proved why coming home while he was in town had been a mistake. As we finally rounded the bend to my house, I spotted my parents standing outside in our little vegetable garden.
Keshav bhaiya grinned. ‘Brace yourself.’
I barely had time to pull the handbrake before my mom was yanking the car door open and throwing her arms around me.
By the next morning, the mountain air had rinsed off most of last night’s irritation. Or maybe I’d just forgotten what I had been so worked up about. Either way, waking up to mist fogging up my bedroom window was all the reminder I needed to not waste my precious time at home being salty at my annoying (albeit well-meaning) older brother.
And any leftover grumpiness I may have had dissolved as soon as a hot paratha appeared on my plate at the breakfast table. ‘Mom, you’re the best,’ I beamed at my mother, who was shuffling to and from the kitchen in her night dress.
‘Eat up.’ She waved the steel spatula at me as she walked back to the kitchen. ‘You’re looking so thin.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘I’ve not lost a single kilo.’
‘Might have even gained a few,’ Keshav bhaiya mumbled from across the table. I gave him a deadly sweet smile.
‘Nonsense,’ mom shouted from the kitchen. ‘Ask your dad … you look like a skeleton.’
I turned to my dad, who lowered his newspaper to regard me for a brief second. ‘You look fine.’
‘See?’ I smirked at my mom as she re-appeared with a bowl of curd.
She shot my dad a look of utter betrayal before sliding into the chair next to me. ‘Kavu beta, I’m so glad you’re home.’
‘Me too, mom.’ I squeezed her arm.
‘Then why are you leaving so quickly? Three days is not enough time after six months away!’
‘Three and a ha—’
‘This job is too tough on you, Kavu,’ she said, her voice tightening with concern. ‘You always sound exhausted when you call.’
‘It’s nothing I can’t handle, mom. I swear.’
‘Just because you canhandle something doesn’t mean you haveto, beta.’ She gave me a long look.
I turned to my dad for help, who finally put his newspaper aside. ‘You don’t have to convince us, Kavu. Just promise us you’ll be honest with yourself.’
I looked at their faces, feeling unsettled.I was fine. Wasn’t I?‘I promise everything is okay, you guys.’ I pushed my chair back and stood up, parking the thought for later. ‘Now I have to go and finalize the Airbnb for my shoot, but I’ll be back soon.’
She sighed but kissed my cheek anyway. ‘Fine. But take an umbrella. And don’t forget to eat while you are working!’
‘Ma!’ Keshav bhaiya groaned. ‘She literallyjustate.’
I walked out of our hillside cottage and got into my cab with a smile on my face … right up until the Airbnb host called and wiped it clean. I stared at the phone screen in disbelief as thehost explained that they’d only now understood the ‘scale of our project’ and therefore needed to ‘revise the rate accordingly’. It wasnota revision. It was straight-up extortion. They’d probably googled Jharokha and realized we were a well-known brand, not a startup run by college dropouts.
