Covered head to toe in flour

One day, Rajeev went to his clinic, leaving Gowthami alone in the house. It was a quiet, sunny afternoon, and the mansion felt unusually still without Radha bustling about. Rajeev had barely been gone a few hours when hunger gnawed at Gowthami's stomach. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, she ventured into the kitchen, a place she had never dared to explore before.

As she opened the kitchen door, a waft of unfamiliar smells greeted her. She glanced around, noticing the neatly arranged shelves and cabinets. Her eyes settled on a top shelf where some food items were stored. Standing on her tiptoes, she stretched her arm as far as she could to reach a container. But just as her fingers brushed against it, a large bag of flour teetered precariously on the edge before tumbling down, enveloping her in a cloud of white powder.

Covered head to toe in flour, Gowthami looked around in dismay, feeling utterly ridiculous. She tried to brush off the flour, but it clung stubbornly to her clothes and hair. Just then, Rajeev returned home and heard strange noises coming from the kitchen. Alarmed, he hurried towards the sound, pushing the door open to find Gowthami standing in the middle of the kitchen, her face and clothes ghostly white with flour.

For a moment, Rajeev was too shocked to react. Then, as the absurdity of the situation sank in, he couldn't help but burst into laughter. Gowthami, despite her embarrassment, started to laugh too, her musical giggle filling the room.

"What happened here?" Rajeev asked, still chuckling as he approached her.

Gowthami wiped at her face ineffectively, smiling sheepishly. "I was hungry, so I came to the kitchen to find something to eat. I couldn't reach the top shelf, and when I tried, the flour bag fell on me."

Rajeev's laughter died down as he realized the practical problem at hand. "Oh, I completely forgot Radha is on leave today. There's no one to cook."

He looked around the kitchen, thinking for a moment. "You've never cooked before, have you?"

Gowthami shook her head. "No, I don't know how to cook."

Rajeev smiled reassuringly. "That's okay. How about I teach you? It's about time you learned some basics, and it'll be fun."

Together, they set about cleaning up the flour and gathering ingredients. Rajeev rolled up his sleeves, showing Gowthami how to chop vegetables, measure spices, and mix ingredients. He explained each step patiently, making sure she understood the process.

Gowthami watched intently, mimicking his actions as best she could. Under Rajeev's guidance, she learned to make a simple yet delicious vegetable curry and rice. The kitchen soon filled with the warm, savory aroma of their cooking.

As they worked side by side, their laughter and conversation flowed easily. Gowthami felt a newfound sense of accomplishment as she stirred the pot, and Rajeev felt a deep sense of joy seeing her learn and grow.

By the time they finished, the kitchen was filled with the delicious smell of their meal. They set the table and sat down to eat, savoring the fruits of their labor.

"This is really good," Gowthami said, taking a bite of the curry. "Thank you for teaching me, Rajeev."

Rajeev smiled, pleased with their efforts. "You did a great job, Gowthami. We make a good team."

After their meal, Rajeev stood up and began clearing the table. He carried the dishes to the sink, rolling up his sleeves once more to wash them. Gowthami watched him with a mixture of admiration and curiosity. She had never seen a man so comfortable in the kitchen, so at ease with household tasks.

Rajeev's movements were efficient and methodical as he scrubbed the bowls and utensils. The rhythmic sound of water running and the clinking of dishes filled the room. Gowthami, still sitting at the table, observed him closely, noting the way he seamlessly switched from doctor to homemaker.

As he rinsed the last dish and placed it on the drying rack, Rajeev couldn't help but let his thoughts wander back to Gowthami's mysterious past. She had told him she didn't know how to cook, and from her behavior, it was clear she was unfamiliar with basic household chores. These clues pointed to a different kind of upbringing—perhaps one of privilege and wealth.

Wiping his hands on a dish towel, Rajeev turned to Gowthami, who was still watching him with those wide, expressive eyes. He walked over and sat back down, leaning slightly towards her.

"Gowthami," he began gently, "I've been thinking about you and your past. It's clear you weren't used to cooking or doing household tasks. I wonder if you come from a wealthy family, where you didn't need to do such things."

Gowthami looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged slightly, her expression a mix of frustration and sadness. "I wish I could remember, Rajeev. Sometimes I get flashes, like glimpses of a different life, but nothing solid enough to hold on to."

Rajeev reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "It's okay. Your memory might come back with time. And until then, you have me, and this home. You're not alone in this."

Gowthami squeezed his hand, feeling a rush of gratitude. "Thank you, Rajeev. You've been so kind to me. I don't know what I would have done without you."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, each lost in their thoughts. Rajeev couldn't shake the feeling that Gowthami's past was significant, that her amnesia was hiding something important. He resolved to keep searching for answers, to help her piece together the fragments of her lost memory.

For now, though, he was content to have her here, safe and sound. The mystery of her past would have to wait. As they rose to leave the kitchen, Rajeev caught a glimpse of their reflection in the window—the doctor and the amnesiac girl, bound by circumstance and growing closer with each passing day.

He smiled at her, and she returned the gesture, her eyes sparkling with a newfound confidence. Together, they stepped out of the kitchen, leaving behind the questions of the past and embracing the possibilities of the future.