“Strategy,” Ravi replied. “I was pacing myself. It’s called endurance.”
“Fine.” Priya laughed. “Let’s call it a tie, just like old times.” She gave him a quick nod before leaving the garba. But as she moved toward her table, she was suddenly aware of the weight of countless eyes following her. The hum of murmured conversation seemed louder, and Priya could feel the buzz of attention her dance with Ravi had stirred.
Shrutiji stood at the edge of the crowd, every inch of her composed, except for the sharp look in her eyes. It was clear she hadn’t expected Priya—of all people—to be the one dancing with her son, and she was not happy about it. Priya’s steps slowedas their eyes met. She couldn’t resist the flicker of defiance that crept into her own.
You don’t mind, do you?Priya glided by, her head held high, pulse still humming with exhilaration.
When she got back to the table, Mumma and Puppa were nowhere to be found. Priya scanned the crowd at the buffet table, but there was no sign of them there either.
“If you’re looking for your parents, they stepped outside,” one of the women at their table informed her.
“Thanks.” Priya made her way out of the banquet room and spotted them in the lobby. The smile on her face vanished instantly as their eyes connected. Puppa stood rigidly, his body tense, while Mumma crossed her arms across her chest. Priya didn’t need to guess what this was about. She had drawn too much attention to herself. Their disapproval hung heavily in the air as Priya approached.
Aware of being watched, Priya’s parents held their tongues. But that didn’t stop Mumma from yanking her dupatta back into place and tucking it tightly into her waistband.
“Mumma,” Priya hissed through her teeth. “Can you not? I’m not a kid.”
“Then act like it,” Mumma replied, her lips tight.
As they walked back to the car, the vibrant notes of the sangeet dissolved into the night. A sense of emptiness washed over Priya as she slid into the driver’s seat. She didn’t regret dancing, but the guilt that followed hit her hard, making her feel like she’d let her parents down all over again. Their judgment still had the power to make her feel small, as if she was a child again. And it stung, realizing that after all this time, she still wanted their approval.
Priya pulled into Moksha, the drive silent and strained the whole way. Even after she turned off the engine, Mumma and Puppa remained motionless in their seats.
Finally, Puppa spoke, his voice sharp and cutting. “Is this how we raised you?” he asked. “You might not care about what you did, Priya. You and your sisters come and go, but your mother and I live here. We’re the ones who have to face the consequences.”
Priya’s heart thudded in her chest, just like it did back when she was a kid, and her father was angry with her. But shewasn’ta kid anymore.
“I was just enjoying myself,” she snapped back. “Since when is that a crime?”
“Enjoying yourself?” Puppa’s voice was tight. “Do you know what people are saying right now? That Rakesh Solanki’s daughter is a disgrace. That she has no respect for herself or anyone else because her parents didn’t raise her right.” His tone rose with each word.
Priya stared at the steering wheel, her jaw tightening. She could feel the unspoken expectation. This was her moment to apologize. But something inside her rebelled. She’d always tried to be the good daughter; tonight, she refused to shrink back into that role.
“We’re not saying don’t take part in garba,” Mumma said. “But flailing around like you are possessed? Suchjungli vera? How will we ever show our faces to Anandji and Meeraji? Or all those people who saw you dance so recklessly?”
“There will always be people who whisper and judge, but this isn’t about what anyone else thinks. It’s about whatyouthink,” Priya shot back. “So, go ahead and say it. Tell me how humiliating it is that your divorced daughter had the guts to dance withsomeone from a higher caste. And not just dance, but dance like she didn’t give a damn—”
“Priya!” Puppa’s tone rang out sharply. “You will apologize at once.”
“Why should I?” Priya replied, her pitch rising. “Do you think Ravi is apologizing for dancing with me? Why do I always have to be the one apologizing? You probably don’t even remember that I know Ravi from computer camp. The first year you enrolled me, I spent the whole summer working on the final project and tied with him for first place. I was so proud and excited, but do you know what I remember most about that day?”
She paused, the memory sharp in her mind. “You walked straight past me to congratulate Ravi and his parents, while I stood there, waiting to show you my medal. That was the first time you explained caste to me, and where we stood in relation to him. It made me feel like Ravi was more worthy even though we both tied for the top spot. That voice inside me is still there, but tonight, for a few moments, I broke free and danced with Ravi as an equal. And I’mnotgoing to apologize for that.”
Priya exhaled, trying to steady herself. “I grew up in a different world from yours, yet somehow your rules are the only ones that matter. There’s no room for me to spread my wings or make my own choices.”
Puppa’s expression hardened. “You’ve had more than enough room to make your own choices. And look where that’s gotten you. No job, no husband. Nothing to show for it. But sure, go ahead and blame us. Because we took a moment to show our respect to Ravi and his family instead of gushing over you.” He unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. Then, with a harsh slam, he shut the door and stalked off.
Mumma flinched, her face twisting as she stared after him. “I hate all this fighting.” She looked at Priya, her eyes sharp with frustration. “Why do you have to argue? Why can’t you just say sorry?”
“Why is it always on me to keep the peace?” Priya replied. “Why can’t he ever admit he may be wrong too?”
Mumma’s expression tightened like the strings of a sitar pulled taut. “Maybe you should just have stayed in Calgary.”
“Maybe I should have,” Priya replied. “Maybe I needed a reminder of why I left in the first place.”
Mumma released her seat belt with a sharp motion and climbed out of the car.
A wave of sadness washed over Priya as she watched her mother fade into the shadow of the funeral home. Everything was unraveling—her dreams, her relationships, even the pieces of herself she thought she’d finally started to put together. Her parents’ idea of what her life should look like, of the daughter they wanted her to be, was driving a wedge between them. And Priya feared that she would end up yielding just to avoid conflict.
