‘Did you eat something?’ Her voice is stern.
‘I had a parantha, Maa. There’s a corporate meal on board as well.’
‘Will you go everywhere on the planet but come home?’ she says sharply.
‘Why do you need me when you have him?’ I taunt her.
In the past few weeks, the frequency of Maa’s calls has dropped, all her opinions are coloured by him, and she’s as obsessed about him eating as she is about me, and this bothers me. Daksh has now spent more time with Maa in the past month or so than I have in a couple of years. He drives down to Dehradun as if it’s not another city but in his neighbourhood. It’s all because Maa encourages him. She also takes advantage of him.
‘Is he there right now?’ I ask Maa. ‘Is that why you didn’t call me in the morning?’
Maa takes a long pause.
‘Daksh was here this morning.’
‘Why?’
‘He said the kitchen sink needed fixing.’
‘He said that?’
‘Also, the bedroom door was a bit squeaky.’
‘He said that too, or you told him that it was squeaky and it needed fixing?’
‘It’s the same thing!’ Maa brushes me away. ‘It did need fixing and he could fix it.’
My mind throws up an image. Maa slyly telling Daksh about a new problem in the house every time he turns up and hedutifully fixing it. I picture him covered in dust and grime, his shirt soaked in sweat, a tutorial YouTube video playing on his phone, a triumphant grin plastered on his face. Only once he had told Maa that he fixes everything in his house by himself, and since then, Maa has turned him into an unpaid personal handyman. Maa knows Daksh would do anything to impress her, to impress me. He would do anything to make me accept his proposal, which Maa, by the way, has accepted.
‘Why are you doing this, Maa?’ I ask. ‘Kyu tang kar rahe ho usko(Why are you troubling him)?’
‘Me? He wants to be here,’ Maa answers. ‘... and I want him to be here as well.’
My heart does a flip. I remember how scared I was when Daksh told me he was going to meet Maa, how Maa had shut off completely for a couple of days, how I had no idea what she was feeling, only to find out that she had called him back and fed him aloo puri.
‘Why?’
I can hear her breathe through the phone. ‘He feels like Gaurav, you know?’ Another silence. She continues, her voice barely a whisper, ‘When he’s around, it’s as if a part of your brother is still here.’
How has Daksh gone from the person we blamed for Gaurav’s death to the person who reminds us most of him?
‘He asked about you again,’ Maa continues, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘I think... I think you should consider him, Aanchal.’
‘No.’
‘Is there someone else?’
‘No.’
‘See, how quick that answer was. You two are meant to be together.’
The thought sends a flurry of butterflies flapping in my stomach. Daksh. Me. Together. Our love is as impossible as it is inevitable. But despite Daksh’s silly, soft, strong, persistent exhortations about where we would be if not with each other, his attempts to woo me this time are different. This is not the age to make mistakes any more. There would be no looking back.
‘But Maa,’ I protest weakly, ‘What if everything... goes bad?’
As I reach the security check, I tell her to hold on.
‘What’s the worst that can happen, Aanchal? I think you should just say yes to him.’
