Meha
The next morning. Loya and Kunal dash in my room excitedly. Kunal is still dressed in his formals from office while Loya is in her pj's
"We are getting married." They shout in chorus.
"I know that." I say, uninterested.
"After 4 weeks." They again shout.
"Wait, what?" I throw the book I am reading "I thought it was next year. You are kidding right?"
"Nope." Loya grins and jumps on my bed while Kunal loosens his tie and leans in to kiss her.
"Get a room." I wince.
They stop kissing and turn their heads to me and I am still confused.
"You guys will leave me."
"Never." Loya rests her chin on my shoulder and they both hug me from either side.
"When did this happen?" I ask, sniffing my tears.
"Actually our families decided it. I know we were planning it next year but they have consulted our astrologer and he said this is the most auspicious year for us to get married." Loya explains and I am dumbfounded with this astrologer theory.
"From when did you start believing in astrologers?"
Kunal laughs. "We don't but it is not like we don't want to get married. The sooner the better, right?"
I make a sad pout face, "Where will I live after your marriage? On the streets?"
"What?" Loya frown "You can stay with us."
"You're not serious, right?" I turn to Kunal and he nods.
"We can make a room for you." He adds. "Even when we have kids, you can stay with us as a nanny."
I kick him on the knee and he squirms "I was kidding. We will find you a nice guy. Someone who can take care of you."
I hug both of them and squeak in excitement. "When are you going home?"
"Tomorrow." Kunal replies. "This time we all are going home."
Kunal booked the early morning tickets to Guwahati. I visited Guwahati a year and half back for some official work and after that I never went home. Loya and Kunal would go home during their holidays in June or during New Year's Eve, but I preferred to stay here in Delhi, alone in my apartment, working extra hours at office to keep myself from the creeping loneliness. I spent the last four years without a boyfriend and apparently I have become so good at being single that I never felt the need of someone special in my life.
There are nights when I wish for the existence of that someone special in my life but one thing that my past relationships have taught me is that it is better to wait for the right one than to cry over the wrong one.
The truth is that I never felt the need to go home. There wasn't any kind of longing to have a happy meal with my parents and brother under the same roof.
To most people home is their safe haven, while for other's it reminds them of broken relationships and unbound memories.
Next afternoon....
We reach Guwahati in the afternoon and I breath in the air of my native land. This city is perhaps the loveliest city on earth. People are so warm, the grass is so green and the buildings are getting taller every year. This is where I was born. This is where I was raised.
We take different cabs to our homes.
I stand at the door thinking if I should ring the bell and that's when I see my brother's shoes outside. Nobody wears a size 8 shoe in our house except my brother. Damn it. I think about running away and coming back in the evening but I am too tired for that shit. Wait, I almost forgot that my bachelor brother still lives with my parents. There was no way I can escape him.
Maa opens the door and pulls me in a gentle hug. She never gave tight hugs like other moms.
"How was your flight, Mehu?" She still calls me by that name.
"It was okay." I reply, pulling my luggage across the living room "Where is papa?"
"Oh, I sent him to the market. I will make butter chicken tonight." She gives a soft smile, nothing too excited on seeing her daughter after more than a year.
I notice the greys in her hair that she tries to hide with a chocolate brown coloured dye. Her skin has started showing the wrinkles despite the ageing creams she uses everyday. Nonetheless, her face is always glowing and she takes special care of her chocolate brown hair that she'd colour every Sunday in the parlour.
My Maa is what my father calls a high maintenance mother and you can't blame her for that. It is because of her early and successful modelling career. You see, she isn't the mother who'd get her hands dirty by washing dishes at night. I don't know how my father handles her tantrums but he does a good job in keeping her happy all the time.
I nod and go to my room. My bed is properly made and it carries a lavender aroma. My old toys are stuffed inside the wooden glass table and my medals still hang on the wall. I got them in the writing contests in which I participated during my college years and it looks like Maa got them cleaned just before I came. Later, I go to the washroom in order to freshen up.
When I reach the dining hall, I see my brother sitting in there, drinking his cup of evening tea. He is two years elder to me. Every time I see him, it is quite disturbing to realise that we share the same pointed nose and thick eye lashes which we inherited from our mother.
He looks up at me and gives a wry smile, like he approves of my existence in this house. "I almost forgot your face." He comments, brewing a sarcastic tone.
"Not so soon." I say, and sit towards his right leaving a seat in the middle. It is our old sitting arrangement.
Meanwhile, Maa enters the hall with some freshly made muffins, tea and a plate of chocolate cookies for me. She knew my sweet tooth.
My brother and I sit there in silence, neither of us knowing what to talk about. We met after a year and half and still had communication barriers. However, we were not like this since childhood. He was my best friend until something terrible happened to us.
"Aarush, tell Mehu about your new project." My Maa starts as usual, trying to swing in some words between her disconnected children.
Aarush ignores her and continues drinking his tea.
"He has started his own Chartered Accountancy firm in Guwahati." Maa says happily and brings up something weird "Why don't you join your brother here?"
"Maa, I am not a CA." I remind her, in case she forgot that her daughter is an MBA in finance and marketing.
"Yeah, but you are jobless now. I am sure Aarush can find some work for you in his new office. What's wrong in staying close to home and working with your brother?"
Aarush signals her to shut up knowing I am going to burst out any moment which I eventually did.
"I am not jobless. I am working on my new book." I correct her, my voice slightly raising "I came home after a year but did you ask me how my life is going? Did you ask me about my new work? No. You are only babbling about your son and his new office."
Maa is taken aback by this sudden outburst but she doesn't counter attack me. She never does. She just lights the fire and leaves me there to burn.
"Meha, calm down. I was going to ask you about it." Aarush interrupts.
"Oh really? You don't even know how to protect a sister, forget about doing anything else."
"Meha." His voice raises as I watch his knuckles tighten under my eyes. I knew I had crossed the line, but I wasn't wrong either. Maa gets up from the table and walks to her room, silently wiping her tears while my brother looks away, trying to hide his.
"Jagriti." My father enters calling out my Maa's name and stops looking at our dead faces. "What happened?"
"Nothing papa." Aarush stands up from his seat and takes the grocery bag from my father.
I dash into my room and lock myself from the inside. I cry like hell every time I am home which is why I always stay away from it. That tragedy changed our family. It broke that very night and there is always a space for gloom between the four of us, like something left a hole in us. Our family died with the death of my sister in this house.
