Delhi or Dilli-bustling streets, endless chai tapris, and a city where dreams are both made and broken. In this chaos, Anchal is focused on her career, dodging her parents' shaadi ki baatein, while Varshith, a perfectionist set to inherit his father...
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| Familiar Strangers|
one week later
"Ghar kab chalna hai?"
"Anchal beta, tumhe aati hai na gaadi chalani?"
"Koi merese baat kyun nahi karta?"
"Baap se jaruri aisa bhi kya hai uss phone mein-"
I groaned, looking up from my mobile phone at my father who couldn't stop whining, demanding to go back home. He shuts his mouth he had opened to speak again. He was recovering faster than I thought he would, so the doctor had deemed him fit to go back home today. Since then, he had become more and more impatient, which I'm sure has more to do with the bland hospital food rather missing his home sweet home as he claims. Now I know where I got my dramatic genes from. "Jaayenge na. Pehle yeh apple khao chup chap." I passed him the plate of chopped and peeled apples because he prefers it that way. "Khaa rahe ho ya abhi mummy ko phone karun?" I glared at him, he glared at me back but complied anyway since we both are scared of only one woman before I picked up a slice of apple and popped it into my mouth. I turned around and smiled at Anjoli who was wasting away her weekend holiday with my family's dramatics.
I never realized how good of a friend she was until recently.
I sat down beside and rested my head back on the headrest with a tired sigh. "Tired?" I nodded. "Wanna get some fresh air?" I immediately stood up and walked out.
She stepped outside with me, a look of hesitation on her face. I nudged her. "Anjoli? What's wrong?"
Anjoli sighed, pursing her lips. "Terrace pe chalegi?" She asked softly.
I nodded in agreement.
We stepped out in the open, the chilly breeze immediately hitting us on the faces. I checked the time on my mobile since I lost my precious wristwatch somewhere, and it read 7:30 p.m. The sky had turned dark, but the rooftop garden with cheerful flowers and bushes lightens up the area. The artificial lamps placed between the bushes were warm to the eyes. I took a deep breath, smelling the after shower air and my mood grew pleasant. My nostrils were starting to burn from the smell of bleach and alcohol inside the hospital. I noticed a couple at a distance on our right, the man on the wheelchair, immersed in a conversation. "Wahan chal." I dragged her by the arm at the nearest metal settee and sat down. "Ab bata-" I paused, noticing her flustered face.
Was she by any chance...blushing?
I scowled in disgust. What the fuck?
Anjoli cleared her throat. "Uh, bro. Look, I was genuinely concerned for uncle, okay? And I-" She turned towards me completely, grabbing my hands. "I actually came here time to time to check up on him and you too, babe. But-"
