Winner of Wattpad India Awards 2020 (Judge's Choice) in the New Adult category.
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"The lights are cheeky, you can't live without them, and yet if you get too close, they'll blind you. Darkness? Well it doesn't cheat. It's cool and soothing. It's r...
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Madhu had offered to meet up somewhere private, knowing she was the only person Maanyata could vent to, but her friend had refused to skip her duties as the mother of a groom, firmly replying to Madhu's concerns with, "Later, after the wedding, after Diwali."
All through their flight back to Delhi, a day before Arnav Deewan's wedding, Nakul kept nagging about how he was missing something.
"I know I've heard this name before," he said for the umpteenth time, as she unlocked their door and he dumped their suitcases in the living room, falling on the sofa with a groan. "I think he was one of the media men at Motiya?"
"Could be," she muttered, dropping down next to him. "But you weren't at the press conference."
"No," he agreed, slow realization clearing his expression, "Wait Varun Malhotra, yes it was that man on the balcony, remember I was talking to him? Nice fellow, looked a bit on edge so we shared a—" he glanced guiltily at Madhu, stopping mid-sentence.
"Shared a?"
"Conversation. Oscar Wilde and old friends."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
He paused a beat, returned her stare for half a second before caving, "Okay so he needed to light his cigarette and I helped him out. Indulged a bit myself."
"Your cholesterol is off the charts Nakul you'd promised the cheat days will go down."
"It was half a ciggy I'm fine."
Shaking her head, Madhu left for bed, too exhausted to pick an argument.
The Deewan-Gupta wedding was a blur of just the kind of grand festivities she had withdrawn from after making Bhabra her second home—complete with a choreographed set of performances, a reality TVesque camera crew following around both families, and a remarkably wasteful buffet. But armed with her husband's whispered mockeries, she managed to endure the inanities of old money rituals, mostly because her one friend left in those circles couldn't afford to lose any more people.
Madhu was nothing if not loyal, life had taught her the how important that was.
If Madhulika didn't know better, she would have doubted her friend even needed her support. Amidst police summons, plummeting company stocks, media hounding and hastily arranged divorce papers, Maanyata stood composed and dignified, being nothing but a mother to her son throughout the ceremonies, even through the brief scare at his reception when Arvika disappeared without a trace. An ancient sturdy island in a tsunami.
So eventually when, three weeks after Diwali, Madhu found herself in front of the old oak doored entrance of Maanyata's newly reoccupied Mumbai apartment, she expected to witness a drained form of her friend.
