Pendulum

Four

Avi's grandmother was waiting for us at the entrance. She welcomed us in with the aarti that was meant to ward off the evil eye, and placed a metal pot of rice, a kalaash, for me to topple with my right leg before I took my first step into the palace. I was made to step into a plate of red alta, a mixture of vermillion and water. I took my first steps into the house with Avi right beside me. It was beautiful—intricate designs decorating the borders of the walls, which were painted in the richest of colours. I stopped at the foot of the grand staircase, my hands running across the wood when I felt a tap on the shoulder.

"Don't you want to wash your legs before I give you a tour of the house?" he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. The dimple I had seen earlier made its appearance once again, and I fought the urge to poke it like I used to with my grandmother.

His grandmother returned with a basin and some water, and moved to take my feet in her hands—I brushed them off.

"I'll do it myself, Dadi. Please don't," I insisted.

She reminded me so much of my grandmother, and I felt my heart contract at the mere thought that mine had passed on a long time ago. I quickly rinsed my legs, and before I could pick the basin up, Avi's grandmother beat me to it—and left with an adorable smile. I turned to look at Avi, and he had his lips pursed. He was amused by this silent exchange.

"You're going to have to get used to that. She pampers me a whole lot, and I think the same would apply to you, now that you are a part of the family," he chuckled.

I gave him a half smile before taking a step towards the flight of stairs, seeking a quick distraction from the severity of his words.

"I thought you were going to give me a tour of the house."

He nodded and took two steps at a go so that he was in the lead. The rooms were just as spacious and grand as the living room, and I noticed something weird about this palace. There weren't much people here except for the helpers and his grandmother. Sure, Ayodhya was beautiful and bustling, but this palace seemed too quiet compared to what I had been used to—I was never left alone to myself.

"Can I ask you something?"

He stopped and turned to face me. "Sure."

I averted my gaze.

"Where are the rest of your family? What about the help?" I wanted to know.

He went silent, and I looked at him. He wasn't looking at me anymore. It took him a while to answer, and I felt that staying silent was the best idea. He started speaking with his eyes trained on a wall beside me.

"My parents died when I was just a child. It's been just me and my grandparents—well, a grandmother now. We don't really like the fuss with servants and chambermaids, so we stuck to the ones my grandparents hired and their offspring."

"Didn't you have any cousins?" I wanted to know.

He shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of, but I'm sure there are some out there," he laughed.

I nodded. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I'm not really comfortable with my cousins—so you don't have to worry about them running over," I joked.

He smiled, his eyes finally on me—and he closed the distance between us in a few steps. This seemed to be a constant habit of his, the need to encroach on my personal space and study me. I felt him take my hands in his, making the urge to pull away hard to control.

"I don't need a family. I have you."

I knew that arranged marriages brought about the best of love stories I had ever heard of, some even better than those who had love marriages. Maia was an example, with her husband who was nothing like Avi—who wasn't afraid to speak about his feelings. But she managed to break the barriers, and they were very much in love with one another. There wasn't a day when she didn't speak about him, and I had to admit I was slightly jealous of how this had worked out for her, which brought me back to my situation. What if things did not work out the way Maia's had?