Poles Apart

Chapter Forty-Five

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Arvi

The day after the Mehendi, I am harshly woken up by the sound of the curtains being tugged away, the sound of metal being pulled against metal making me groan with disdain as I draw my comforter closer and burrow myself completely in it, refusing to wake up.

The sun hasn't even risen, for God's sake!

"Arvi," my mother calls softly, "wake up now."

The strangeness of her tone makes me open her eyes. I blink, still inside my blanket. This is what it takes to have a sweet and soft mother? I would've gotten married as soon as I knew.

"It's too early," I complain, peaking out of my blanket.

"Arjun's already up, you know?" she asks, trying to evoke the sense of competitiveness that I've never had in me.

"He's not human," I retort, turning to my side, away from the curtain.

"Why are you so hostile to him?" my mother demands. "Just because he's marrying you, you think you can behave with him as you like? That's not right. Be nice to Arjun."

I roll onto my back, and wink an eye open at my mother, bored. The number of times I've heard this lecture now is— never mind, I never paid heed to it after the first time.

Why my mother thinks I'm hostile to Arjun is beyond me.

"We're not USA and Russia, Amma," I remind her. "And stop siding with him all the time! I'm the daughter you have birth to, he's not your child!"

"Well, Arjun's much better than my own child, and if he is right, I will side with him!" she says back, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now, no more arguments. If I see you even glare at Arjun, you'll see what it is like, to get a beating."

I mentally stick my tongue out at her. As if I'm going to ask her to look at me when I glare at him. "I look at people as such. It's not my fault."

"True, Peddamma," Avni agrees from my side. "Arvi Akka's general stance is to glare at people so that they can't even think of talking to her."

I kick Avni, but the blow is softened by the blankets between us, and she doesn't experience a thing.

"Sorry, I'm not very warm like you," I snicker, hiding under my blanket before she can slap me for saying it.

I hear my mother sigh audibly. "I want you both downstairs in the next half hour. Do you understand?"

For the final mangala snaanam, or holy bath before my wedding tonight. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out all of those thoughts, but it doesn't help much, or at all.

The door to our bedroom closes, and Avni leaps at me with her claws out. "Bitch," she seethes, and I welcome the distraction with open arms as I try to get away from her, laughing my arse off.

"What the fuck do you mean I'm warm?" she asks, wrestling me to the floor.

"What do I know?" I laugh back, holding her hands so that she doesn't strangle me. "Ask Nandith. He said you're warm, didn't he?"

"He's an idiot!" Avni complains, suddenly overcome by grief, as she pulls away and sits on the floor, across me, with her knees raised in front of her as she rests her weight on her palms that are stretched behind her.

I back up against the wall, still laughing. "Why would he say you're warm?" I ask her, diligently rubbing salt onto her wounds.

"I don't know! What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?" she whines, slumping forward onto her elbows, with her palms cradling her face. "Do I look warm, Arvi Akka?"