Shining Fragments of a Heartbeat

Lullaby

Anaya decided to spend the morning with her grandfather. She only had a few precious days left at the farmhouse before heading back to Bangalore, and the last thing she wanted was to think about work.

Anaya stepped into her grandparents' bedroom, instantly enveloped by its understated elegance. The room was a harmonious blend of luxury and tradition, designed with both style and comfort in mind. Soft, cream-coloured walls formed the perfect backdrop for the rich, dark wood furniture that exuded timeless sophistication. A grand four-poster bed carved with intricate patterns reminiscent of their ancestral home stood at the heart of the room. Draped with plush quilts in warm shades of maroon and gold, it invited one to sink into its comfort.

The large, arched windows were framed with delicate, embroidered silk curtains that caught the morning light, casting a soft, golden hue throughout the room. A Persian rug in deep burgundy lay beneath the bed, its ornate patterns adding a subtle touch of luxury without overwhelming the space. On either side of the bed, antique wooden nightstands held brass lamps with intricate filigree designs, their soft glow adding warmth and intimacy to the room.

Against one wall, a tall mahogany wardrobe with brass handles stood like a sentinel, guarding years of carefully chosen sarees and shawls. Next to it, a small sitting area was arranged by the window — two high-backed armchairs upholstered in velvet, placed around a low, polished coffee table, where her grandparents often enjoyed her afternoon tea.

The air was lightly scented with sandalwood, coming from the incense that Sandhya burned daily in a small brass holder on the mantelpiece. Above the fireplace, an intricately framed mirror reflected the light, giving the room a sense of expansiveness. Yet despite its grandeur, there was an undeniable cosiness — a warmth that came not just from the plush fabrics or rich colours but from the memories woven into every corner of the space.

"Do you think you can extend your stay, Nayu?" her grandpa asked after she mentioned leaving by Tuesday or Wednesday. His voice was light, but his disappointment was unmistakable.

"I promise you, Nanu, I will not repeat my past mistakes. I will visit you as often as possible," she said with a smile, squeezing his hand.

"How often?" His brow lifted in gentle challenge.

"Every fifteen days," she teased, trying to lighten his mood.

A grin tugged at his lips, though his eyes softened with gratitude. "Good enough," he muttered.

But her grandmother wasn't as easily convinced. Sandhya watched her from the other side of the bed, arms crossed, a sceptical eyebrow raised.

"I'm not just saying it to make Nanu happy," she declared.

"You better not", her grandma stated a little assertively.

"I have missed you both. It was irresponsible of me not to visit you. I'm sorry," Anaya apologized.

Sandhya's expression softened as she stepped forward, reaching to clasp Anaya's hand. "Oh, my dear, it wasn't you who stayed away. Marathi made it impossible for you to return. I probably would have done the same," she consoled.

"No, you wouldn't", Anaya countered.

Sandhya smiled. "Oh, alright, I wouldn't."

"You would have broken her jaw and her legs ", Grandpa declared.

Sandhya's eyes widened in mock outrage, though the laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "Ranjanji!" she exclaimed, swatting at him playfully. "You're terrible."

"Oh, don't give me those puppy eyes, Sandhyaji. I know, and you know pretty well what you are capable of", he announced.

"Oh, alright, Ranjanji. You won't let me have a moment of being a sweet old lady," she laughed, joking. But her eyes were on her husband.