One Foot In The Grave

Chapter 3: The Proper Welcome

Ahalya, Day 6

Sun rises in the east: a universal truth. Sunlight peeked into our bedroom when I had been stepping out of the bathroom, curled up in a towel and left a warm indentation on my bare thigh: an unsettling thought process that wasn't even worthy for a diary entry. The sound of what I just thought felt embarrassing. I moved up on the sofa, my skin caressing the sea-weed coloured cushion and crossed my legs. I was taking a break from sleeping. I sat, wondering how Vishwa would think in perfect sentences that make absolute sense while often sounding poetic. Although I seemed jealous of my fiancé, I only wished to hold a conversation like him. 

Four months ago, we had been invited to a housewarming by one of his friends, and Vishwa had walked around, saying things like: I think we're going to see a lot of Instagram selfies in front of this wall; and: Well, you guys topped my list of people who's settled first and better. The newlywed couple couldn't stop smiling at his remarks as we had gathered in their bedroom, priding over their pastel geometric wall-paint and the complementing lilac bedspreads and taupe-coloured curtains. All I had said was 'Nice house' and offered occasional smiles, despite feeling as if stuck in a kid's ice-cream cup. But Vishwa had no problem navigating those waters.

Two days in this village and I hadn't met as many people as I expected I would. Having the house two kilometres away from the actual village helped us retain our privacy. The trees brought nothing but wind and dust. Days were brighter and nights were darker, which of course didn't stop me from sleeping all the time. To my surprise, Vishwa left no remarks about my newborn laziness. The jitters to draw something had slowly diminished. And Vasu had been bringing food to my room. How couldn't I cash in these advantages? I would shower two times a day, eat the food on time and live on the bed until the cycle begins again—which, comparatively, was a notable improvement from my side. 

My mother-in-law, Yamuna met with me once and hadn't bothered again; perhaps my desert-animal lifestyle spooked her. Or I could be over-thinking and she might've understood I wasn't myself these days. Somehow, I guessed the latter wouldn't be the case.

A knock on the door and I almost jumped off my seat. "Yes," I managed to say.

"I brought Coffee." Vasu walked in, holding a tray and wearing his brightest smile.

He walked to the table in front of me. Frankly, it wasn't a table, but rather an antique wooden piece of decoration with a slender, elliptical top and its chiselled legs had mutated into alien tentacles where they touched the floor. I studied Vasu as he placed the tray down and slid his index finger under the saucer and thumb on the top. Then, he lifted the cup and I wasted no time reaching for it. The rich smell of caffeine restarted my day.

After blowing the layer of cream on top and taking a sip, I said, "Good evening to you too."

Vasu giggled. His voice made him sound like a man unlike his face, which seemed juvenile and innocent.

"Do you want anything specific for dinner?" he asked.

"You know, I'm fine with everything. In fact, have you seen my fiancé today," I said and stretched my right hand in the air, adding, "He's this tall and good-looking."

He pursed his lips and put on a sincere expression. "Yes, I think so. A man of similar features told me he's going for a walk in the garden. Do you want me to track him down?"

I chuckled and took the last gulp of my coffee. "I'll find him. Poor guy wouldn't have gone so far."

We both exchanged a nod again as I finished my coffee and put the cup back in the tray. I decided I like talking with Vasu and warned myself not to mess this up since I wouldn't want him thinking like everyone else that my sarcasm's a coping mechanism.