Clean Bowled - A story of two identical souls.

7.

Sanyogita

I am two hours late for dinner.

Swallowing my beating heart, I lick my lips. I'm late for my own anniversary dinner. Great.

Mrs. Gayatri Gujaral's disapproval looms over me like an impending storm. It seems she effortlessly discovers reasons to express her disappointment, and I've unwittingly handed her a glaring opportunity to reprimand me. The weight of her disapproval hangs in the air, a palpable tension that I can't escape.

Though I'm not scared for anyone but I just respect her because she is Prithvi's Dadi and he loves her. He really does.

I had informed Prithvi about my tardiness, attributing it to an unforeseen emergency.

A series of earthquakes spanning three states within a three-minute timeframe, each registering between 6.8 to 7.2 magnitude. As the editor in chief and prime time reporter, duty compelled me to stay at the office, even as Saurabh urged me to leave for my family dinner.

A lie I spoke, effortlessly.

What? I have to for my beloved husband's wish.

I'm telling you miss subconscious, Prithvi has rubbed on me so bad that I lie without efforts.

Yes, situation was difficult. Like I mentioned earlier too, we always get ready for such emergencies like today.

Our field reporters continued their efforts to give us live feeds. Since I'm the editor in chief and prime time reporter, I had to be there at office. Saurabh asked me to leave, but I didn't.

He doesn't leave a single chance to impress me or my family but I refused and if we were in another universe, I would have Highly impressed with him.

No.. you wouldn't. Prithvi is always there in another universe. I silence my inner goddess from spilling any more secrets.

Duty comes first.

These all events took my one hour beyond regular office hours and another hour goes to wrap this traitor saree around me.

Prithvi send me tutorial video ---- the easiest one---The last time I adorned a saree was during my school farewell, and even then, it was with the expert assistance of my mother. Since then, my wardrobe has primarily consisted of jeans, shorts, and skirts, leaving me unfamiliar with the graceful draping of a saree.

Observing my mother's daily mastery of this intricate task leaves me in awe, wondering how she effortlessly weaves elegance into her routine.

"Are you okay?" Swayer asked me shutting the car door on my back.

No, Swayer, I'm fucked up. There will be his family, my family and most important Pranali's Perspective in-law.

Dadi's invitation had emphasized punctuality and the specific attire saree adding an extra layer of pressure to an already tumultuous evening, ---- Come in a saree ---- her message said with invitation.

"I'll be fine, Swayer" Swearing under my breath, I couldn't escape the nagging certainty that tonight's scolding would be particularly potent.

The saree is not the traitor, the earing is. My left ear hole is a bastard. It always gets me in trouble. Right now, my black and green diamond earing is not getting in the hole, I'm trying since I left home, during the entire drive and right now, here in the parking but it's not going in.

Dick.

In the intricate dance of familial dynamics, I had unwittingly provided his Dadi with ample ammunition. As I braced myself for the impending storm, the gravity of the situation seemed to echo with every beat of my racing heart.