Vasu, Day 15
Gripping the rope inside his fist, Vasu pulled the buffalo near to the shed as it mooed, shaking its head and dancing its tongue out. He veered the animal until it settled in its little cement cubicle. The sight of the grass distracted it, and Vasu exhaled in relief.
"That was impressive," Suvarna yelled from the other end of the shed. She stood with one end of her saree tucked near her waist, her hands on her hips. She reminded him of Bhanu in the days of her cleaning Dwaraka whenever he would return for the holidays.
"Why? Do you think I am not strong enough?"
"Oh, you are strong, but I thought my buffalo would outsmart you."
"Yes, you believe in it more than me," Vasu said, stepping into the evening light. "I understood your intentions."
Suvarna laughed and hit him on his shoulder. The impact of her rough hand almost shook him.
'Ow.' He murmured to himself. But he didn't complain because after spending time in Dwaraka, any talking person would fascinate him. Ahalya spoke with him a few times, but that wasn't enough. Too many worries to stay quiet for a long time. And he couldn't figure out what happened to the three of them, how hard he tried. Yamuna was busy or acting as if she was busy. Vishwa stayed oblivious to everything except eating on time. The house was slowly metamorphosing into a rich historical prison.
"So what brought you to this old woman?" Suvarna asked. They walked together into her house through a side door.
"I am bored there," he said. The jumbled utensils and the smell of gas told him it was a kitchen.
"Of course, you are." Suvarna scoffed. "Four people live in a house that is meant for fifty. I never understood how Yamuna survived in that palace."
"You get used to it after a while, I guess," he said, absentminded.
"Do you want to eat anything?" She went into another room. Vasu could hear her footsteps thumping, harassing the floor and a husky opening of a fridge door and closing with a thud. The woman treated every human, machinery and the utensils like an animal. Cons of a good business perhaps, Vasu doubted.
"One of my animals had calved two days ago, and I made some Junnu," she said, shoving a steel bowl into his hands. It was too cold to hold, and he immediately dropped it on a shelf beside.
She was busy arranging things by her gas stove and his head full of sharp clinking of things.
He could see the layer of black pepper on the sweet and his mouth watered. The last time he ate Junnu was when Bhanu brought it to the hostel. She had come carrying a carriage full of home-cooked dinner, a new white shirt he demanded her to buy and one tiny box of Junnu. He had been playing cricket at the hostel's playground and came rushing to her, sweaty and agitated. He didn't remember what they talked about since he'd been keen to go back. His heart sat heavy in his chest for the memory as if the pain was turning it fat.
"Did the police find anything about her?"
He shook his head, leaning against a wall.
"If anything happens to her, I swear to god—"
"She might as well run away, leaving us," Vasu stated, interrupting her.
The dazed expression on Suvarna's face told him that his voice burst louder than he expected.
Suvarna grabbed a cloth, cleaned her hands and said, "So, you know about her pregnancy."
"The doctor told us, no thanks to him. Why didn't you tell me before?"
YOU ARE READING
One Foot In The Grave
Mystery / Thriller[In the middle of a rewrite] He tells a lie. She tells the same lie. Their reward is a devil. Ahalya and Vishwa, popular Instagram comic artists, go on a vacation to Vishwa's birthplace, a Village named Aranyavaram. In the absence of the internet, t...
