Threads of Destiny

1-Their worlds

Devalgeer

Kalindi was in her fields, busy plucking oranges. Her bag was already overflowing, but she continued searching for more, determined to finish her work before sunset. The evening sun painted the sky in hues of gold when an old man appeared, his voice breaking her focus.

"Kalindi, why haven't you come for breakfast yet? I brought your paratha here. Eat first, then carry on," he said, his tone half-scolding, half-concerned.

But Kalindi, stubborn as always, ignored him and kept plucking. His persistent calls finally made her relent. With a sigh of relief, she plucked the last ripe orange from the tree and turned to face him.

"Papa, why did you come all this way? Your knees aren't strong anymore," she said with gentle reprimand, taking the tiffin box from his hands. Sitting down on the ground, she devoured the paratha like someone who hadn't eaten in days, savoring every bite.

After breakfast, Kali pulled out her mobile and dialed Golu, one of the trusted vendors who bought her oranges straight from the source and sold them in the local market.

“Namaste, madam ji! How are you?” Golu's warm, familiar voice crackled through the line.

“Namaste, bhaisaab. I’m good. And you? How's your wife doing now?” Kali asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Golu had always held Kali in high regard, ever since she helped him with some money when he was struggling to set up his small fruit shop. Last week, he had mentioned that his wife had slipped in the bathroom and injured her leg.

“Everything’s fine now, madam ji. Nothing serious, thank God,” Golu said gratefully.

“That’s a relief,” Kali said with a smile.

Knowing Jeetu, the usual orange plucker, was away visiting his village, Golu asked, “Should I come to your field to pluck the fruits, madam ji?”

“No need, bhaisaab. I’ve already done that,” Kali said proudly. “But can you meet me on the road near my field?”

“Of course, madam! I’m already nearby. I’ll be there in five to ten minutes,” Golu assured her.

Kali hung up and, with her father’s help, hefted the heavy bag of bright, juicy oranges onto her shoulder. They made their way to the road, ready for the day's trade.

Together, Kali and her father hauled the heavy bag of freshly plucked oranges to the roadside, waiting for Golu’s arrival.

This was Kalindi's life-tiring, yet deeply fulfilling. Her days were long, but her heart was content.

As they stood by the roadside, a car pulled up. The man inside rolled down the window, removed his sunglasses, and winked at her. Kalindi pretended to ignore him at first, but a small smile crept onto her face. Her thoughts wandered as she watched him.

When will we get married? she wondered wistfully. She was tired of sneaking around to meet him, keeping their love a secret from her family.

For now, though, Kalindi stood there-strong, tired, but happy, waiting for the next step in her journey.

After collecting their money from the vendor, Kalindi and her father made their way back home. As they approached the house, Kalindi noticed three men and a woman seated comfortably on the veranda, chatting with her mother. The group was gathered around a table laden with steaming chai, pakoras, biscuits, and namkeen, their laughter echoing through the yard.

Kalindi's mother spotted the duo first. Her eyes briefly met her daughter's, conveying both surprise and an unspoken instruction. When Kalindi hesitated, her mother said in a firm tone, "Touch the feet of the guests."