"I don't want to become the kind of Adwait who would rip every single skin cell off any man who dares to have even the faintest touch upon your skin," He placed a soft, lingering kiss on her earlobe.
Nitya's heart raced in response to his words. Sh...
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I rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer. After a few moments, the door creaked open, and there she was: a woman in her late sixties, looking tired but somehow familiar. Seeing her brought back memories buried deep in my mind.
"Vanakkam, Saroja Aachi," I greeted her with a grin stretching across my face, my eyes gleaming with the nostalgic recollections.
(Greetings, Grandma Saroja)
She gave me a thorough once-over, her old hands gently adjusting her glasses as her eyes scanned me from head to toe. But even after her scrutiny, her face didn't betray any sign of recognition.
A chuckle bubbled up from within me. Gracefully, I bowed low and moved closer to her feet to seek her blessings. Softly, her hand descended upon my head, offering a tender pat of affection before I straightened up once more.
"Someone once told me that if you neglect your meals, the God himself will shorten your stature. It seems, Aachi that you have forgotten to nourish yourself too," A teasing smile played upon my lips.
Drawing a vibrant yellow flower from the bouquet I was carrying, I held it before her.
I saw a flicker of recognition spark in her eyes which widened in astonishment. She gasped. Fingers instinctively reached up to cover her mouth, as if trying to hold back the overwhelming surge of emotions.
"Ayo, Magan," she uttered with a mix of awe and affection.
(Oh, dear)
She accepted the flower tenderly from my outstretched hand. Cupping my face in her hand, she drew me closer, and I lowered myself in a slight bow, aligning myself with her height.
Her fingertips traced the lines of my face with affection, while her tear-filled eyes spoke volumes of the emotions swirling inside her. Finally, she pressed a tender kiss upon my forehead. "You've grown up so beautifully. I couldn't even recognize you."
I felt so happy seeing her glowing with joy that it brought tears of delight to her eyes.
"Of course, Aachi. You always wished for me to blossom into a handsome young man, and see, here I am." I playfully responded.
She removed her spectacles, revealing a tender vulnerability in her eyes and I wiped away the tears gently.
"Indeed," she performed the traditional Indian gesture, using both her hands to ward off any lingering traces of the evil eye.
I shook my head, amused. She hadn't changed one bit. Back in the day, she'd always be the one to ward off the evil eye whenever we attended any gathering. Now, it seemed like that tradition had morphed into a full-fledged daily routine.
"How are you, Aachi? I missed you so much." I stepped over the threshold, entering the familiar confines of the house.
She and Daddu were the epitome of closeness in my childhood, surpassing even the bond I shared with my own parents. My grandparents whom I had never met, left a void in my life, but Aachi and Daddu seamlessly filled that void.
