Page 43 of Someone to Love

‘Not sleepy,’ came the voice and Surya smiled.

Koyal stared, open-mouthed, at the little form clinging to Surya Aunty.

Atharv’s daughter?

‘Hey,’ said Surya Aunty, gently nudging her granddaughter, ‘do you want to meet someone?’

Koyal watched with some amazement as a little hand came towards her, the face still buried in Surya’s shoulder.

‘Hello,’ came a tiny voice from under layers of thick hair.

‘Hello,’ Koyal replied, her voice hesitant, her brain buzzing.

Slowly, the little girl turned around. Koyal found herself staring into large, wise eyes fanned by the longest lashes Koyal had ever seen. Nili and Atharv were both visible on the face.

‘Who are you?’ she asked, clutching on to her grandmother’s hand.

‘I am Koyal.’

‘I’m Mansha. Dadi knows you?’

‘Hi Mansha. Yes, Dadi has known me since I was three!’

The girl gasped and looked at her grandmother who smiled encouragingly.

Koyal was wondering what she was supposed to say next when Atharv cleared his throat. The softness that had surrounded him a few moments back was now lost, replaced instead by a halo of anger.

‘Should I try putting her to bed?’ he asked his mother pointedly and Koyal flinched. Surya Aunty glowered at him but he did not budge.

‘It’s way past her bedtime,’ he said acidly and picked up his daughter who did not seem to want to leave her grandmother.

‘Let her be,’ Surya Aunty tried. ‘I’ll take her to bed in a bit.’

‘Bedtime, you have to be up in time for school tomorrow, let’s go,’ he said to Mansha, ignoring his mother, and walked off without as much as a glance at Koyal’s direction, dragging a reluctant Mansha with him.

‘I am sorry … Atharv must be tired,’ muttered Surya Aunty, red with embarrassment.

Friendships fade. Friends disappear. Feelings change. This is life, and as sad as it may be, you just have to keep on going.

‘It’s okay,’ said Koyal softly, putting a hand on Surya Aunty’s.

The friendship was dead and buried.

And no good comes out of digging a grave.

22

Like a gorgeous woman getting ready to go out, as the end of the year approaches, London gently, subtly, suddenly becomes even more beautiful. The air becomes lighter. Houses become cozier. People smile more. Office-goers begin to lose their stiff upper lips. The fairy lights come out. The markets open up. There is mulled wine. And there is laughter. And Christmas.

Huddled in their warm coats, woollen mufflers wrapped around their necks, the little company wandered through Winter Wonderland, the annual Christmas market in Hyde Park. They linked arms, stopped by the little wooden shops, sipped wine and got on rides.

Koyal. Surya. Hema.

And Mansha.

Ma, and Ma alone, could have done something so devious. Seeing how terribly her daughter was missing her, Ma had sent not one, but two motherly women swooping down into Koyal’s lonely life. Hema and Surya. Turned out that not only was Atharv friends with the Chandras, Hema and Surya were also very close.

Neither had a daughter and Koyal, with her warm smile, easy charm and eagerness for affection, easily filled the void. It had started with little chats over steaming cups of coffee after work and had now reached a point where hardly a week went by without the trio meeting. While they had heart-to-heart discussions on almost every topic under the sun, as if by some tacit agreement, some things were never mentioned. Koyal’s past and what had transpired between Atharv and Koyal were out of bounds and never brought up.