Chapter 4th (The threads that's held around my wrist)

"Sunno (hubby), either let me stay alive or kill me with your hands!!! " The cries of a familiar personality echoed through the very end of the street that I hate to turn my bike's handle in, the street of utter illiteracy in literate society.

"Why do you want to kill her too?! "

"Tere Kasam (I swear in your name) I didn't say anything! " 

"That's right you never say anything, I'm the fugitive as always! " The shrilly voice cried cutting that hefty but geriatric voice. 

The sky has by then turned from a pink marigold color to a dusky deep blue when I halt my bike- red as the fresh tomato under the blinding street light, and the warm dramatic spotlight fell on me as with a tired look I rose my head facing the great entrance that was followed by little wooden grille door tucked closed from where a fight of hyenas was being witnessed but the people around on the road were completely ignoring it as if- 'It's like every day' 

And I have to say- I don't feel like I was coming to this house after a year or more, it's still the same jungle that I left never to return but... The fate... Is uncertain...

"Guddu! " Abruptly, through the running horses of my thoughts, the lady with a square frame and a thin face filled with post-acne marks exclaimed through the group of tiresome housewives who have gathered for a public 'tête-à-tête', waved her hand in the air with those shimmering gazes of hers. 

That was intruding into my solitariness when all of the society gossip dwellers glanced at me with their 'checking out' sharp stares, I bet they would have even failed the X-ray machine in such combat nonetheless not to look rude or cheeky in their double-edged perspective, I also waved my hand like queen Elisabeth from the plane of her car and the corner of my lips curled up, but my eyes remain cold. 

however, I know just a friendly wave was nothing but the beginning of conversation in our Indian society especially if you want to be the host topic of morning, afternoon, evening, and midnight gossip.

ugh...so many complications....and only one convention! 

I lifted my lazy hand to my sternum clamping them together, in a serenity gesture,

"Namaste, how are you, Aunty?"

However, the reply was overwhelming as she jumped from the gossiping crowd,

"I'm as usual, how are you?! you have become Eid's moon, we caught a glimpse once a year."

"Nah... just practical and classes ain't leave me alone" I commented casually twitching my shoulder in and outwards,

"Aha...boards pressure"

I nodded with a stretching relief inside, for once their boards were being of some use to me.

Abruptly,

A loud infringement sound of some cutlery stole not only both of us but also everyone's negligence finally turned attention-

"You are a selfish-narrsasstic-house wreaking woman!!! "

The aunty smiled at me with an emptied and baffled reaction running her finger through her thin scalp, and spoke out as if shielding the ongoing-

"It's being...usual"

Usual seriously? And you are saying it with a smile and so casually?

But, what is this in for me? Why bother?

I sighed at my thoughts, calming the flame of shame that what an image they are pulling in social eyes or anger that seriously, what image they are pulling in social eyes, I spoke out almost in attending that "I must keep my stuff inside", whole time gazing the damp warping wood of which the entrance was built.

"Hn... Yeah, see you later...(but, then abruptly she leaned closer, making me jerk myself a little behind, however, she continued in a whisper) Well, it's nice to have you back again"

I forced a smile and spun away carrying the lightweight bag from the front of my scooty without turning back, to say goodbye.

However, I didn't respond to any possible socializing reply of 'me too' because genuinely I wasn't any keen or I could say all I had come was because my parents thrust me to and also... Because of Dash-Dash...

"What if... What if one day you have to quit this beloved habit for the sake of a loved one?"

"Why? What for?"

" Because... Because they are dying of the smoke" his hand halted and the cigarette froze in his fingers that he was bringing up to his lips,

"Will you do the needful or... Let the fate decide?"

A grin filled his face, "Frankly, my answer is going to be criticized more" I raised my eyebrow at his comment and my whole concentration sat on the pin of his lips, as he continued with a shy smile blowing the sizzling smoke through his lips,

" I'd let fate decide, because even if I leave smoking today my dad won't quit it because of his strong dependence, and I can't force those extremely talented people out there who are creating shells out of smoke while standing outside my doors and windows. So my sacrifice was all wasted in retirement? Will it make me feel peaceful or rather more depressed and addicted to what I had vowed to leave? "

A cold grimace spread on my face and my body hunched with my eyes glaring at the around my boots, however abruptly,

"I know that you wished you were in Mount Abu right away but... Sometimes fate wants something else to be served on your plate and this cycle itself is bittersweet. You must accept everything as it's nature. "and he touched my shoulder carelessly with a jolly smile spread over his handsome face.

otherwise, I had sworn never to cross this entrance ever again that I passed by where the holy Tulsi plant sat spreading its branch-like banyan tree with freshness and greenery enticed with sudden coldness that had grabbed my feet and my heart,

However,

'Everything is alright for now' I sighed touching my touch, feeling my heart pounding like anything.

*Om bhur bhavasvaya tatasmivuranium...*

The bell of the two-floored house painted in a combination of light-dull yellow shade rings with the sacred Gayatri mantra which is like a household lullaby in every Indian household that is taught and was made for us to recite 5 times a day like a 'mantra for life' since I have got leverage of speech, but inside was abruptly silenced.

And then, those hefty footsteps approaching... Until' the rag entrance was finally unlocked by this man in his late 40s with a frown told more than any words could convey, however, 

"Isn't it you? " his expression winged in joy, as soon as his eyes met mine, and a warm smile emerged on my face too, as I imitated his words on him, 

"Isn't it you?... Chachu (uncle)"