Dil Beparwah | ✔

fifty two

||CHAPTER 52||
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┊V A R U N┊

A staple hobby my grandfather had nurtured into a daily morning habit after his retirement was gardening. The backyard of the house had bloomed into a mini-nursery of sorts over the years. The verandah extended into one fourth of the back garden, refurbished with lawn chairs and wooden tables, a storeroom and a shed that housed gardening supplies.

Nothing much had changed out here. The neighbor's fox terrier still terrorized everybody in its vicinity and tried to climb over the fence every now and then. Tiny yellow butterflies hovered over the flowerbed, sparrows chirped, fluttering over tree branches and window sills. A sunny morning straight out of childhood visits.

"Itne jaldi aa bhi gaye?" I asked, hovering over a stalk of Hawaiian hibiscus. It had been planted just the day after I landed in Punjab.

Dadu lugged the water hose behind him, moving the pipe and sprinkling water over it. "Gudhal hai, jaldi ug jaate hai."

"Bebe ko bohot pasand hai na?"

He spared me a fleeting glance before focusing back on the yellow flowers. "Onu gulabi wale pasand hai. Peele wale tenu pasand thhe."

I stepped back on the stone trail to avoid the muddy puddle as Dadu continued to water the plants. Complying to my mother's request, I hunched down in front of the lemon plant that had yet to grow into a tree, and plucked out a few leaves for post-breakfast tea. Boiled and strained, it added a unique flavor to the beverage, one I couldn't find anywhere in Mumbai.

Maa and Bebe were setting the table for breakfast when I entered the house again. The bell rang, an annoying string of chirps swapped for the simple gong, that practically made one want to open the door faster to avoid it.

"Doodh wala hovega, onu paise dene sige."

My mother rushed to the living room to open it while I searched for my wallet, telling her not to worry about it. I found it on the table beside the door, but stopped when she peered curiously at the visitor. "Ji?"

A flash of pink and brown caught my eye first, followed by a white fluffy sweater I recognized. A voice, hesitant and confused, responded with joined hands, "Namastey, uhm... Kya yeh Varun Malhotra ka ghar hai?"

Mimicking her actions, Maa greeted her too. "Ghar toh ode dadaji da hai par haan, woh ethe hi hai. Aapki taareef?"

"Mai Arvika hoon. Kya mai-"

The confirmation propelled me into action, and in an instant, I yanked the door open wider. "Arvika?"

A warm pink flush spread on her cheeks, eyelids a bit puffy from what I could deduce to be sparsed sleep. Eyes, I couldn't look away from her eyes, because heck, if this was a trick my mind was playing, I'd be damñed. But it wasn't, she was really here, present and breathless and nervous and saying my name in the exact same tone of surprise, "Varun!"

I opened my mouth to speak but couldn't decide on what exactly I wanted to confirm first. In retrospect, I'd have fuçķìng slapped myself if she wasn't going to herself, but my mother's remark pulled me out of the blatant gawking. "Ae lo ji, khud hi aa gaya."

A call about burnt food on the stove made my mother rush to the kitchen hastily, leaving us in a very awkward state that we now sensed. The neighbor's dog had now taken a liking for the front yard, barking in the direction of our door. Arvika glanced at it before clearing her throat. "Can we talk?"

Fùçķ, fùçķ. "Yes, haan, please-andar aao."

Only when she turned to wave at the gate did I notice a car waiting outside. A familiar face behind a dark pair of sunglasses returned a nod and swerved the vehicle back into the lane, driving out of the colony.