|The secrets we take to grave|✔︎

21 |There is more to what meets the eye)|

Song for the chapter Muskanien Jhooti hai by Suman Sridhar

There is an expression in pop culture which I could never make sense of; Anubhav too had used the expression 'Filthy Rich' to denote some heartless good looking billionaires in his second book. However, I could barely fathom how the richness of one is connected with a word like Filthy, that carries a negative connotation.

Well, that was before I stepped inside the Port Blair penthouse of Mr. Abhinav Bhattacharya. I knew he was a real estate agent once, soon started his own firm and thanks to his grandson's autobiographical sketches, I know he secretly invests in other projects with a hefty profit margin and promise of some unfair gains.

But I was ignorant of how much wealth could possibly do. His house seems to have adapt with the changing times, he re-innovates his property every two years.It is like there is so much money with him and there is so little he could spend on, he ushers it all in beautifying the residence of his loneliness.

The photo of the palace that I had seen at Anubhav's apartment makes no match for the beauty of the maplewood flooring and varnished furniture. Save for his sofa and the large piano which is coloured beige, everything about his house screams vintage aesthetic.

"Please take your seat, madam." A young man, probably a year or two younger than me, escorts me from the foyer to the living room. "Sir is attending some business calls"

"Thank you" I murmur, awkward as I recall how the security guard has to interrogate him about me with an intercom. Rich people have security issues, I guess.

"What would you like for dinner, Ma'am" He seems attentive as I unbuckle my handbag and place it on the table. I pray he isn't judging me for putting it in an improper place.

"Anything light. Thank you" I say. He nods and leaves, to my fortune.

Gaurav

No calls no texts since last one day.

I hope all is well at your end.

Is the job shift stressing you out?

(received at 8:33 pm)

His concerns do make me smile. Even months before a little gesture of his care felt alien to me but now I do know why he had been acting strange all along.

But I am still mad at him for hiding this all along.

Sia

I am okay just had a rough day at work.

(sent at 8:33pm)

Gaurav

You do know that our families are meeting tomorrow?

(received at 8:33pm)

"Sia Tripathi"

My breath takes a hitching turn and halts in my throat.

The way Anubhav would purposely call me out using my full name.

My head wheels to the left side, Anubhav's dadu is all grins today. He has always been a man of few words and this disposition of him unnaturally takes me by surprise . Also because the resemblance is uncanny, the voice, the smile.

Anubhav looks more like his grandfather. The bit of resemblance he shares with his father is also common with Gaurav.

Of late, I have also started to notice the miniscule similarities shared between Anubhav and Gaurav. The way both of them scrunch their noses and look away when they are teary, their tall demeanor which they undoubtedly have inherited from their father and of course the way they loved to write.