The early February breeze seeps into the room through the floor-to-ceiling window, carrying the faint sounds of Vikrant Bhai's irritated reprimands from the backyard. He's discussing the day's plans with Sneha and his team—a routine I have become accustomed to during this week.
In a while, Papa would join them with parathas and chai. Disagreements would fly at a stormy wind's pace fifteen minutes later.
Bhai would try to convince Papa that his strategy is flawless, while Papa would buy none of it.
"Puttar, siyasat andar tang rakhan wali chappal nahi hunda, jisnu har koi paake tur sake." (Son, politics isn't a slipper you can wear and walk anywhere you like.)
"Chappal purani hove taan vi chhalla ban janda hai, Papa! Kinni vari dassiyan hun tenu, lokan di soch badal gayi hai! They have become extra sensitive. We gotta keep that in mind." Bhai would defend himself, frustrated. (Even an old slipper can become a weapon, Papa!How many times should I explain to you that people's thinking has changed!)
Even with closed eyes, I can almost picture Papa raising his hand in exaggerated exasperation as he'd resign, "Kar jo karna hai! Ne ab tussi wadde ho gaye ho, MLA Sahib" (Do whatever you want! Now you have grown up, MLA sir)
Their arguments blend with the rustling leaves and calls of Rock Pigeons and Rose-ringed Parakeet.
Once, I would have been there, if not to contribute, then to snag a fresh paratha and settle on the lawn after an hour long yoga session. I'd laugh at Bhai's frustrated groans, only to have Momma swoop in with one of her cutting retorts that left us all in stitches.
Everything outside is how it's supposed to be steady, predictable, normal.
Everything except me!
"Di, Get up! Stop goofing around. I know you are wide awake. Fucking coward. Get up and talk!" Kaustami's voice pierces through the calm, sharp like a whip. It slaps me right into reality.
She's pacing near the window, arms flailing as she hurls her frustration at me. Dressed in her favorite panda pajamas, her hair tied in a messy bun, she looks every bit the fiery storm she is.
Annoying Amma!
I groan and pull the pillow over my ears as I crawl deeper into the sheets.
"A whole week, Di! And you still won't tell me! What did he show you? What did that snake want from you now?" Her words travel before her. Seconds later, she stomps closer and tugs at the quilt as hard as she can.
"I told you already," I groan, keeping my eyes closed. "It's nothing you need to know. Get out. My head is already pounding."
You know another sleepless night. Nothing much.
Kaustami halts mid-step, her fiery glare locking on me. "Still hiding? What could be so bad that you can't even trust your own sister?"
My fingers dig deeper into my palms as I finally blink my eyes open. My voice is steady but firm. "It's you who should trust me, Kausti. Keeping it away from you is for your best. Go. Get some snaps of the Golden Temple. You're behind by a week. Aren't your followers missing their daily dose of enlightenment?"
Her jaw tightens, the hurt in her eyes flickering before it hardens into something sharper. "Fine!" she snaps, her voice trembling with anger. "Remain lying in the blanket like a bedbug. Don't tell me anything. But don't blame me if I figure it out! And then... it's gonna be so over. For that Shaitan Kay and his mistress, Kai."
"They're sibli—" The words barely leave my lips before Kaustami storms out, slamming the door behind her. The sound reverberates through the room, rattling the guilt deep inside me.
I lean back on the bed, exhaling slowly, trying to loosen the tension that coils tighter with every passing second. But it clings to me, refusing to let go.
It has been a week. A week of a blur of faces, voices, and memories that feel both close and impossibly distant.
The Haveli has been alive, buzzing with the kind of energy I hadn't felt in years.
Relatives rained, bringing gifts wrapped in bright paper and gossip wrapped in hushed tones.
"Lovely Paji is married to Suraj now," my cousin, Shahneel had whispered mischievously.
"His maid," Komal, Shahneel's younger sister, added, clutching her stomach as laughter spilled out uncontrollably.
"He knocked her up and she blew him over." Kaustami giggled.
The gossips had always been refreshing.
When we were kids, the four of us had been inseparable. Shahneel, Komal, Kaustami and I had spent summers plotting pranks that would have Papa and Chachu shaking his head in feigned disapproval. We'd hide Bhai's slippers in the garden or lock the cook out of the kitchen just to see how long it would take him to notice.
And now? They couldn't stop telling me how much they'd missed me.
"Di, you've changed," Shahneel had said, her head tilted, a pout tugging at her lips. "You're quieter now. It's so weird."
I had laughed it off, brushing her words aside like they hadn't struck a nerve.
"Quieter? I think it's called growing up."
Komal had snorted, nudging me with her elbow. "Nice try, Di. But we know you've gone soft. Are you even paying attention? Tell me what did I just tell you?"
"Umm..."
"See, you aren't listening. I said Janhvi confessed having feelings for Vikrant Bhai."
"Vikrant Bhai?" I frowned, trying to remember the face that I had seen a few months back.
"Yeah. She likes him. In fact, it has been some years now. She said she fell for him the first time she saw him." Komal giggled wit a wink.
The teasing had continued, relentless and familiar, wrapping around me like a comfort I hadn't felt in years. Shahneel and Komal—the partners-in-crime who once made pulling pranks on Bhai a daily ritual—were now giggling in the same Haveli where we'd plotted our childhood rebellions.
But even their laughter couldn't shake the weight that had settled over me.
Friends from college had come by too. They spoke of new jobs and promotions, of destination weddings and honeymoon plans. A couple of them had already started families. Their excitement was infectious, but I felt like an outsider at a celebration I wasn't invited to.
Life here was moving forward.
Momma's laughter came more easily now. Papa, too, seemed less burdened.
But for me? I was still stuck. I simply couldn't't shake the feeling that I didn't belong here anymore.
Mentally, I am still trapped in the grandeur of Garuda, gaping at spilled beans— with him.
The thought of Akaay tightened something in my chest. How could one man, one mistake, unravel everything I was? I should hate him for what he did. For what he made me lose.
But I couldn't stop the memories from dragging me back.
I dragged myself monotonously to the bathroom, hoping the shower would wash away the heaviness pressing down on me. Water cascaded over my shoulders, but it did little to clear my mind. Akaay's voice echoed in my thoughts.
"This," he had said, gesturing toward a portrait across the room, "this is what I wanted you to see."
The portrait had stopped me cold. It was of me and Kaustami, etched with raw precision, our faces unmistakable yet hauntingly unfamiliar. Every detail carried an emotion I couldn't name—something unresolved, too real to ignore.
"Premji drew these," Akaay murmured, his voice softer than I'd ever heard. "In his last months. He spent them here, in the basement of Garuda's construction site—a restricted chamber where he lived, completely isolated. He didn't even want to meet us. Not me, not Kai. We used to be his universe, Mridula. Watching him drift away... it hurt so much."
I turned to Akaay, my chest tightening like a vice. "But why would he draw Kaustami and me?" I asked, a frown creasing my brow.
Akaay exhaled, walking toward the portrait. I hesitated, then followed him reluctantly. He stopped in front of the frame, brushing his fingers over its title—'The Glimpse of the Soul.'
"That's what Kai and I wanted to know," he said, his voice low. "We didn't even know he'd drawn this until we found it. A glimpse of his soul, hidden away from the world."
"Is that why you pulled all of this?" My voice choked, tears threatening to spill as I looked at him.
So, everything indeed was a plan. The Randhawa's were taking a revenge.
Akaay's finger froze mid-trace at the curve of the engraved 's' on the wooden frame. The silence between us grew suffocating.
"Why are you telling me this now?" Frustration bubbled in my tone. "I'm over you, Akaay—"
"No! Yes... I mean, you should be." His voice cracked, and for a moment, he seemed lost. "I left no reason for you not to be. I... I just have to give you this."
He pulled a worn envelope from his pocket. The Randhawa crest glinted against its seal. I stepped back instinctively, eyeing it with suspicion.
"What's that?" I asked.
"The answers." Akaay's response was immediate, almost desperate. "Look, it's too messy for me to explain right now. Besides, we don't have much time. If you and Kaustami don't reach the Haveli in the next ten minutes, Vikrant will start a search operation. Just take it... please. Call me when you're done reading it."
His gaze begged me to trust him, but I couldn't move. Couldn't decide. The envelope hung in the air between us like a ticking bomb.
Confusion gripped me as I finally reached for it.
But something inside me snapped the last second.
I pulled my hand back, trembling as I looked at Akaay.
His outstretched arm, the envelope clutched tightly, seemed frozen in time. His face—a mixture of hope and something deeper, darker—only fueled the fire roaring inside me.
"Liar. Cheat," I spat, my voice shaking with fury. My pulse roared in my ears. "You think I'd fall for this? You still take me for a fool, don't you?"
Akaay took a step forward, his mouth parting. "Mri—"
"Don't you dare fucking say my name!" I cut him off in a raw, searing voice. I stumbled back, putting distance between us, my chest heaving with breaths I couldn't control.
"You think you're so cunning, don't you? That you can play with people's lives and walk away unscathed." I pointed a shaking finger at him. "I'm back. Bhai is rebuilding himself. So you drag your dead grandfather into this? Shameless! You think some cheap emotional tale will buy me back? You are pathetic, Randhawa."
His face froze, expressionless, but his eyes—those cold, calculating eyes—flickered.
I laughed bitterly, the sound foreign even to me. "You said it was us. You made me believe it was real—that you cared. I believed. But not anymore! No dirty trick can help you get close to me to again. To control me. To destroy my family."
The silence that followed was heavy, his stillness suffocating. My voice dropped, trembling with the last of my rage.
"You disgust me."
I turned on my heel and stormed out, the door slamming behind me with a force that, though couldn't shake the walls of Garuda. Still, it shook the walls of his fragile heart.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Beta?" Momma's voice broke through the pounding water, making me jump a little as I blink back to Chandel Haveli.
"You'll catch a cold in there," Momma calls. "Come out quickly. Angira's here—he's waiting for you downstairs."
The mention of Angira brought a momentary pause to my spiraling thoughts. I shut off the water, gripping the edge of the sink to steady myself. My reflection stared back—pale, worn, a girl who'd lost control.
What have I done?
I shook my head, pushing the guilt aside as I dried off and dressed quickly.
Downstairs, Angira greets me with his usual wide grin.
"There's my favorite recluse," he teases, pulling me into a quick hug. His warmth is familiar, grounding.
I manage a small smile as we sit in the living room.
I let Angira carry the conversation as he brief me in with updates.
Initially, it feels like a welcome distraction, to hear him boast about the numbers and achievements. The conversation drifts to his travels, and for a brief moment, I let myself pretend—pretend that nothing had happened, that I hadn't left Akaay standing there with my handprint on his cheek.
But then Angira reaches into his bag.
"I brought you something," he said, his tone lighthearted.
He pulls out an envelope, its edges worn and stained. The Randhawa crest glinted faintly on the seal.
And just like that. The air leaves my lungs.
"What's this, Angira?" My voice cracked, betraying me.
"Something Kaivan passed along. He surprised us at the office yesterday. He's proposing a collaboration," Angira explains, oblivious to the way my entire body has stiffened.
"Kaivan...?" I repeat numbly, my gaze locked on the envelope.
"Yeah. I know you've a history with the Randhawa's but the offer is really lucrative," he said with a shrug. "Still, we won't move till you show us a green flag."
"Did he tell you to deliver..."
"Yeah. He said it's extremely confidential and it'll help you decide."
My hands tremble as I took the envelope. It felt heavier than it should, as if Akaay had poured all his intentions—his manipulations—into its very ink.
Angira frowned. "You okay?"
I forced a shaky smile. "Yeah. Just... a little tired. Umm... Angira, I'm...can we discuss it some other day? I wanna catch some sleep."
"Absolutely! I really wish, we could do something about your insomnia. I'll get going. Don't forget to read when you wake up."