‘I’ll catch you,bhaiyaji!’ Manvi shouts.
Somewhere on the grounds, Mother is laughing behind a veil of colour, and beside her is Mrs Gowda, dusting colour from her face. This is obviously Mrs Gowda’s first Holi. She is standing with her hands knotted. Father is wielding a water syringe like a warrior. He is actually getting around on his feet, and Karnataka’s genial finance minister has fallen in step. Beside them are a pair of tall silver mugs. I’m willing to bet that they don’t contain bhang.
Then I spot her, decked in simple white separates with a red border. Her hair is tied in a bun, and an oxidized silver necklace sits on her dainty collarbone.
I sneak up behind her. ‘Saving yourself for me?’ I ask, keeping my tone casual.
She spins around, mock offended.
‘Absolutely not,’ she says. The double meaning registers, and sure enough, she pounces.
‘Wow!’ she says, deadpan, taking a step backwards. ‘Did you rehearse that, or was it a spur-of-the-moment disaster?’
‘Improv,’ I shrug, moving with her, taking a step forward, ‘but clearly underappreciated.’
‘Oh, it’s appreciated,’ she says, ‘just… quietly judged.’
‘That feels fair.’
She grins, shaking her head.
‘You do realize you’re outnumbered today, right?’ she asks, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder.
‘Wouldn’t have it any other way.’
We’re standing face to face, a broad, cobbled pathway between us, and I realize this is the first time I’m seeing her with her hair pulled back and knotted. It suits her; everything suits her.
I move towards her, eyes locked. The legs are quick, but the heart is heavy. Strains from last evening are playing in my head.
I want to set it all aside for today, just for today, but the mind doesn’t always do as it is told.
She’s not considering marriage; she laid it out for me loud and clear.
‘Where have you been?’ she asks, moving further away, her hand in the silver bowl she carries.
I can’t take my eyes off her.
This hairstyle highlights her features, particularly the lushness of her lips, which haunt me every night.
‘Just fashionably late?’ she teases, changing track and stepping closer to me.
‘I was called away on work.’
She laughs.
‘Brother!’ Navya shouts. ‘They’ve all arrived and are being taken care of. Ratanji is looking for you.’
Aaditha is smiling and walking up to me.
‘She calls my clothes boring.’ Aaditha is pointing at Navya.
‘Nothing wrong with boring,’ Navya says, winking at Aaditha. ‘Brother adores boring.’
I’m trying hard not to laugh, and Miss Aaditha moves deftly and colours my cheek crimson.
‘Happy Holi, Your Highness,’ she says, backing up quickly. I go after her, just a few steps, but I check my stride. She notices and turns around.
‘Maybe I should try my hand at polo,’ she says, admiring her right hand. ‘I have good aim.’
