Florist, Anya is determined that this will be the year her career blooms like the sweet jasmines she's tended to. She's in for a rude shock when she rents a building only to find out that it's been given to gorgeous and confident Kaynath, who owns h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Excitement bubbled in Anya's veins as she was woken up by butterflies perching on the edge of her nose and softly tickling her cheeks. This was going to be her day, the day everything would change, and her parents would see her for what she was and what she could be capable of. She had already picked out her outfit the previous day- a fully embroidered white kurti with a high neck with buttons all the way down and a blue palazzo, unable to contain her high energy.
"You're picking outfits earlier?" her mom had inquired with a raised eyebrow, as she stirred the pickle, sniffed it and added more oil for good measure.
Anya nodded as the smell of garlic and lemons wafted over to her. "You're making more lemon pickle?"
"Yes. You never pick your outfits the previous night for when we have to go to the church on Sundays and all of us get late because of you. Now you decide to suddenly turn right?" her mother placed her hand on her hip and stood waiting for an answer. "Don't try to distract me from the conversation. What's the occasion today, honey?"
There were vessels being clanged together as other delicacies cooked themselves on the stove. A ladle hovered mid air, pausing as her mother waited for an answer and then fell back in the pot.
"Amma," she groaned. "I'll tell you after I come back okay? Just know it's special." Anya stepped closer to her mom, daring to sneak another glance at the half moon lemons soaking in red. They looked like little boats, some of them upturned and already having met their demise. Some of them had little garlic in them and struggled to swim through the thick pickle masala.
"Well, if you say so, but you're starting to sound suspicious," she waved the spoon. "No one's birthday is around the corner."
Anya felt the tension rise in her shoulders as she bounced on her heels. "Maybe."
She stole a half lemon pickle which was set aside for tasting and bolted out of the kitchen.
Now, standing in front of the mirror, and braiding her wavy black hair, she couldn't believe her dreams would be coming true in a few minutes. She added a final touch of golden jimikis with a peacock design and set out for her day. The butterflies followed her almost everywhere and crowned her head and buzzed with the same excitement as her, spinning circles around her faster than ever.
A metal seahorse floated over to her and the corners of her lips lifted in a half smile. It was her last birthday present from her mother and she adored the little creature made from tiny scrap metal of bronze and copper. It nuzzled her neck softly and she let the cool metal rest against her skin and offer her comfort. "Hello, Thangam."
It stopped moving with much vigour and restless as though absorbing her warmth.
She drove her Honda Activa scooter to the place and turned the ignition off. The place was perfect. The building stood on the curve on a junction and was right next to the shopping complex. People were bound to buy jasmines and marigolds to pair off their dresses and to decorate their homes for the upcoming Onam.
