All Strings Attached

Chapter Sixteen

Guess who hasn't gone to sleep yet 😚 and it's already Thursday. Don't forget to vote and comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Sita

"Bhargav and Bhargavi broke up," Nitya yaps to me, filling up the silence of this house singlehandedly. "She thinks they can't adjust in the future, that they're too different."

"Didn't you say they were made for each other because of their names?" I ask her. "Bhargav and Bhargavi? I always thought they sounded like sibling names."

"Can you stop that?" She groans. "You said the same thing when I liked Nithin."

"Yeah, cause it sounded like that—"

"I stopped liking him cause of you—"

"That's not even a bad thing."

"To be fair, it wasn't," Nitya agrees. "But listen to the story! I'm not done— you keep interrupting me!"

"Okay, okay," I comply, placing the phone between my shoulder and cheek, so that I can switch the water pipe from one of my hands to the other. "Continue."

"Right," she continues, "so, Bhargavi thinks they can't be together after two years of being together because her family will not like Bhargav cause they're too different— he's Tamil and she's Telugu.

"I think it's the stupidest thing. She's known he's Tamil for like ages now. They've known each other for longer than they've been dating!"

"It's not stupid," I try to give Nitya some perspective. "Love is important, but it's not always going to be on the top of your priorities; two years ago, it was, and she wanted Bhargav, but today, it's not, and Bhargav isn't fitting in with her priorities, and she broke it off. It isn't the best ending, but it's better than sticking together for something she doesn't believe in. Better now than later."

"You would think so," Nitya throws the usual shade at me. "You're too practical for love. That's why the forces of nature had to intervene," she giggles. "Lekapothe neeku pelli ayyedi kaadu." [(Telugu) Otherwise, you would've never been married.]

I find myself laughing along with her, stupidly. Why would a normal person laugh at something like this? "That's not funny," I tell Nitya, attempting to dissuade her from making such jokes in the future, but even as I say it, I find myself smiling.

Maybe this was the only way for me to find companionship.

Companionship with a man who does not accompany me anywhere? Forget giving me any company, I haven't heard from him in four days. Since he left.

Let me paint you a picture:

"Sita, I have to go to Kurnool," he said. "I need to leave now."

I thought he didn't have anything to do for the week.

Apparently not. A popular leader in the region passed away because of a heart attack, so he had to leave. Did he say when he would come back?

No.

He said, "I will be back when things settle down."

Did he call since he left?

No.

On the TV, he said, "My wife is well and fine, thank you for asking."

How did he know?

Not cause he asked me, I can tell you as much.

Because if he asked me, I would've said, "I'm not well and fine. I'm alone and lonely. I wasn't very close to my mother and father to begin with, having seen all of their immaturities growing up. But I've not talked to them in ages. Because which well-meaning parents would slut-shame their daughter and pressure her to marry someone else for their political legacy? Now, I have a mother-in-law who is spying on me, calling me every two days to ask if I've talked to her son—"