Yā vahati salil'odgāram abhra-vṛndam iva kāminy alakam

"Abhya, how long are you going to stand in the rain like that?" Latika Ekanath Dhumal demanded, stepping onto the terrace where her husband was already soaked in Śrāvaṇa's bounty. His workout weights hadn't been disturbed since this morning, she noticed.

"Until you take me in." Abhimanyu Uttamrav Jahagirdar had never outgrown his habit of sparring with the robust girl next door, although an adult response to the sight of her filling out her red raincoat had displaced his teenage rebellion against his mother's wish to make Lati her daughter-in-law.

"I have no urge to bring you in against your will!"

"The cobra spreads her hood!" Abhya waved his curved hand to mock her.

Lati, an adept multi-tasker, smiled indifferently while secretly disappointed that Abhya, under his now-transparent pale pink button-down, had worn a black undershirt.

"Would you have taken him in, if you had married him instead?" Abhya teased, spreading his arms and tossing his wet hair as the warm rain played over him.

"Whom, Sajjan Sir?" Lati guessed that Abhya was referring to the man whose family had rejected her at the wedding. She hadn't known about the dowry until Abhya, holding the charred remains of Bāpū's life savings, had pleaded with the Kokates that he would repay. Of course, she had threatened to call the police ...

"No, the scarecrow!" Abhya burst out laughing. "When I told you, 'We'll make each other miserable; don't force me to marry you,' you said, 'I'm ready to marry a scarecrow, never mind you, to end Bāpū's ordeal, but I won't force you' - remember?"

Lati remembered very well. The best decision of her life had been to let that muhūrta pass without marrying anyone, not even Abhya. Māmī had pleaded with her son to step up, and Appā had raised his hand to slap Abhya if he wouldn't, but Lati had declared, "I am ready to be faithful like Sāvitrī, but even Sāvitrī would have refused Satyavān if he had been unwilling."

manasā niścayaṃ kṛtvā tato vācā'bhidhīyate.

kriyate karmaṇā paścāt. pramāṇaṃ me manas tataḥ.

(Mahābhārata: Āraṇyakaparvan 278.27)

When the mind is determined, then speech should promise.

Action should follow last. Therefore, the mind is my guide.

"There was no question of marrying anyone after you," Lati told Abhya honestly. "In spite of hearing 'ḍhabbī' and 'ḍholī' all my life, even after thirty-four rejections, even after Sajjan Sir left me at the wedding, I hadn't given up hope that someone would want me, until you didn't even accept me as penance when you were truly sorry about losing Bāpū's money. You taught me that Bāpū would never find a man willing to give me his name. I decided that I would have to make my own name and provide for Bāpū and Āī and Ājī."

"You achieved everything on your own," Abhya objected. "It was your idea to study for the IAS exams, and you were recruited to be Collector for the District of Makhmalabad. You were always too good for that dead-end job at Ābā's bank, and now you're in a position to oppose him whenever he abuses his power as MLA."

"You made it possible for me to have ideas like that, Abhya." Lati pointed to the shivering green woods sloping up to the temple on the hill. "Look at all of those huge trees. We see the earth supporting them, but what else do they need to grow? The tiny fraction of air that is carbon dioxide ... plenty of rainwater to supply electrons ... and the power of sunlight. That's what you gave me, Abhya. A little challenge, a lot of inspiration, and immeasurable energy. Without you, I was just heavy; I couldn't support anyone. I had given up on fitness because I couldn't lose weight. When you motivated me and trained me, I became strong."