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||CHAPTER 1||
《¤》

For as long as I can remember, things had never been amiable between my parents. It was quite evident from the fact that my mother and I had to haul a taxi cab from the Delhi Airport to reach a place we had left seven years ago. You'd expect that my now divorced parents would take it easy and have somewhat civil relations with each other, but no; the bad blood was still there.

"You really don't have to do this, Vika," my mother's voice broke the silence.

I kept staring outside the window, watching the bills and hoardings advertising different brands as we passed them. Delhi's early morning life was slightly less chaotic than Mumbai's, but you wouldn't be able to draw a reasonable comparison between the two cities. The noise and pollution was still very much there.

"Beta, I know you miss your Dad and brother-"

"I don't miss anyone, Mumma."

She sighed. "Fir kyu kar rahi ho tum aisa? Unke saath agar nahi rehna, tho hamare saath rehene mein tumhari problem kya hain?" 

"No, Mumma, I should be asking you that! Kyu kar rahi ho aap ye shaadi?" 

"You wouldn't understand that now."

"Right back at you, Ma."

She was about to say something when the driver halted the car in a sudden jerk. I was surprised the old car didn't fall off its hinges.

"Madam, pahuch gaye," the old, worn off driver said in a gruff voice. I immediately got off the tattered seats, waiting for my luggage to be brought out of the dickey.

"Nahi bhaiya," my mother argued, "Chhesau assi bahut zyada hai. Pachsau pachas ke upar ek kaudi nahi dungi." 

Indian women had bargaining inside their blood, no matter how high they were on the social ladder. I tuned out their conversation and took a look around the huge, posh, housing complex. The buildings had been repainted, they weren't cream coloured seven years ago. The society entrance was still the same though- big black gates and two security cabins on each side. Opposite our building, there used to be the huge club house and garden, with swing sets and seesaws. Arnav and I used to play them. Probably the only thing in which I didn't feel I had a competition for.

The cab left, and my mother adjusted her blue chiffon sari. "Come on, I hope you remember the floor."

I rolled my eyes as I dragged my trolley bag to the lift. Just as the elevator reached the ground floor, a middle aged man came jogging down the stairs. He stopped when he saw mother and me hauling the luggage inside the lift.

"Maanyata ji?"

My mother swore under her breath before turning around. "Rastogi ji, Namaste!"

"Namaste, Namaste!" The man smiled before looking at me. "Wow, Arvika! You've grown so tall! Well, so has your brother-"

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