Winner of Wattpad India Awards 2020 (Judge's Choice) in the New Adult category.
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"The lights are cheeky, you can't live without them, and yet if you get too close, they'll blind you. Darkness? Well it doesn't cheat. It's cool and soothing. It's r...
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The rain stopped by the time late afternoon rolled around. In spite of her best efforts, Madhu couldn't concentrate on her task anymore. The fact that hunger was gnawing at her didn't help either. The lone parantha had been digested hours ago and she needed some fuel.
Even though the skies had cleared, Madhu didn't expect Champa to walk through the swamps the roads had turned into. So she ended up preparing four packets of Maggi they had stocked up. The characteristic smell of its spices filled the kitchen and the hallway, drawing Nakul from her grandfather's old study.
He didn't say anything, just washed his hands and started chopping a couple of capsicums and onions. It took him about half an hour to finish slicing the veggies into weird, uneven chunks. But if Madhu was being honest with herself, she would've done a far worse job.
"Is that enough?" she asked when he poured just one spoon of oil in the pan to cook the veggies.
"I think so."
It wasn't enough. With the flame high and less oil, the skins of the onions stuck to the pan, turning dark brown instead of golden. The capsicums were okay though, just a little raw. Adding the unevenly cooked vegetables to the Maggi and then dumping the entire thing on two plates, they sat across each other, inhaling the food.
"I haven't had this much junk since my college days," Madhu said in between slurping the noodles.
"My college had the best mess, so I can't relate."
"Show off."
"Do you want to visit Lucknow? After Dussehra?" he asked out of the blue, making her pause mid-noodle.
"Lucknow? Why?"
"I'm meeting some investors, for the generator. Could use some of your expertise for the business side of things. Plus, it'll also be a change of scene for you."
It was a logic Madhu found no flaws with, so she agreed. Finishing their meal and washing their plates, they both returned to work. Well fed, Madhu found it easier to concentrate and soon finished with the structure of the idol's legs, moving on to tackle a separate heap of clay, preparing it for the torso.
When the spare table proved too small, she turned over the gardening trolley, making half of the clay fall on the old newspaper that she had spread on the floor, before getting to her knees to start kneading it.
"Can I help you in anyway?" said a voice above her, startling her. "The field is still flooded so I can't go to the workshop."
Craning her neck while straddling a clay mound on the floor, the one she was attempting to flatten with a huge rolling pin, Madhu was highly aware of her likeliness to a tornado. Her palms were covered in wet mud, hair up in an untidy bun from which escaped wiry strands that stuck to her sweaty forehead, and cheeks that probably looked flush with exertion. Not to mention her originally white kurta that had taken on a lot of the floor's grime.
