Titaliya

Chapter 25

College was exhausting. Although the months of tutoring and speaking non-stop in English and French had helped her immensely, it was still a struggle, and she had to translate all of lectures into Hindi in her mind as she listened. Asha was a godsend, taking exhaustive notes at a breakneck speed.

Asha's brother was swamped at work, and so she dropped her friend off at her house before driving back to her apartment. There was a single women's sandal outside her door. The wearer couldn't take off her other medically necessary one.

Anjali.

Veda steeled herself before ringing the doorbell. She wasn't ready to face Anjali. Lying to Arnav was one thing. He deserved all she was giving to him and more. But Anjali was a victim. She was too kind for the people around her, and too sensitive for a world filled to the brim with sharp edges.

But an encounter with Anjali was inevitable. It was better to take Sharda Nani's spirit to heart and get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid.

Arnav opened the door, and Veda walked in.

"Do we have a guest?" she asked.

"Di's here," he answered.

"Payal?" she asked. Veda congratulated herself on her acting. She was getting better day by day.

"No. My sister, Anjali."

She nodded in understanding and dumped her college bag on one of the armchairs. She heard sounds from the kitchen, and the smell of kheer.

For the first time she understood how Anjali and Arnav were siblings. Anjali, too, had a way of intruding into other peoples' lives. She possessed more tact and acted more diplomatically, but in the end she also got her way. Most people hesitated before stepping into another person's kitchen. But Anjali had made herself right at home.

"When will the police finish their investigation?" she asked with irritation. Him being her plaything for a few days had been fun, but it was getting tiresome.

"Tomorrow," he said. "Why?"

"Just wanted to know when you were leaving," she said. It was cold to speak that way, but it was warranted.

Anjali emerged from the kitchen holding a tray filled with three bowls of kheer. It smelled good, but she associated that kheer with too many bitter memories. Shyam, using kheer as an excuse to escape her the first time she almost saw him at Shantivan. The sugarless kheer she taught Anjali how to make for Arnav. She grimaced at the sight of the sweet.

As soon as Anjali set the tray on the tea table, Veda extended her hand.

"Good evening, Anjali," she said. "I'm Veda."

She knew Anjali was ten years older than her, but Khushi was the girl that made family out of strangers. Veda knew better, and was more cautious, in the associations she formed.

"She knew you before," Arnav hinted.

"Khushiji!" Anjali said, leaning forward to embrace her. Veda stepped back.

"I'm sorry, didn't Arnav tell you?" she asked.

Anjali slapped a hand to her forehead and smiled. "Oh, I forgot. Don't worry Khushiji, you'll get better soon."

"I'm Veda. Not Khushi."

It irked her that Anjali wanted her to recover her memories and become Khushi again. As if Anjali didn't know that Arnav had married her against her will. Anjali knew her brother, knew his rage and his hotheadedness, and she still wanted what was best for him. Veda's own wellbeing didn't come into consideration for the woman.