Gaurav Dhaliwal, her senior. He was in the last year when she had started her degree in Lukhnow college. It had been six years.

She remembered him vaguely. He was one of the many faces she passed every day, milling about the college, getting to know people as she settled in. She had made many friends during that year but none of them were from the last year. The only reason she could put a name to his face was that he was in the college drama club with Sonal. Aditi still remembered the end-of-year production when he had played a simpering Romeo to Sonal’s fiery Juliet. The whole thing was a big fiasco, by the end of it Sonal was so outraged she was willing to kill the Romeo with her own bare hands. The memory still brought her a giggle, Aditi shook her head.

Anyway, that was then and six long years had passed. Sonal had dated him briefly before moving on. Gaurav Dhaliwal was long forgotten. Today to see him here out of the blue reawakened all her memories. She smiled wistfully.

“Gaurav, what a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here?”

“I live in Delhi. You know, family business and all,” he said as if it was the most obvious of the things. “But as far as I know you don’t live here. So how come…?” He pushed his glasses over his nose, scanning her with one swift glance. His eyes snagged on the pinch of red in her parting, then on her mangalsutra. They then descended to her arms taking in her now-fading henna and bridal choora that jingled every time she straightened her mop.

Aditi flushed with embarrassment. It was so obvious that she was recently married. And it was even more obvious that something was wrong. New brides didn’t come to gurdwaras to mop floors alone. They came with families, glowing with happiness, to pray and seek blessings for a happy life.

Her eyes became hot but she forced a sunny smile back to her face.

“I just came to Delhi yesterday. With my husband. He is busy today so I thought I’ll come here to spend some time.” She set the mop aside and straightened her rumpled dress. His eyes were narrowed but he gave a nonchalant shrug.

“Sure. So if you are free now, how about a coffee?”

She declined politely, saying she had to return home soon. It felt weird calling that place home but that was what it was, at least for now.

He insisted for a while then gave up, but not before offering to drop her back which Aditi accepted after some hesitation. It would be rude not to accept a friendly offer and she would rather welcome a casual conversation.

*****

The conversation proved more than casual. They talked about college, their mutual friends (a.k.a. Sonal), where everyone had ended up (ie. what Sonal was up to nowadays), and his marital status (still unmarried, reason obviously Sonal).

By the end of it, she felt bad for him. Sonal never mentioned him. She was happy with Rohit.

They chatted about this and that as the car navigated the crowded Delhi streets. His life here was a combination of profession and pleasure. Most of his time was spent looking after his family business, but a few hours a week were devoted to his vocation - he ran a charity clinic with his friends in one of Delhi slums.

“So think about my offer,” he said glancing at her as he drove. “We need volunteers. You can choose your own timings and we desperately need a lady doctor.”

She smiled and assured him she’d think about it. Well, there was no need to think, she was going to accept it anyway. But it would look odd to jump at it now that she was married, she had to at least pretend she needed to consult her husband.

The dusk thickened; the air turned cooler. Streetlights came on drenching the city in a luminous glow. She sat leaning back in her seat, her heart feeling light after what felt like ages. It was as if she was back in college; as if all was well and nothing life-changing had occurred in-between.

The thought pinched her as the gloom started to creep in. Sighing, she got down to wave him goodbye.

*****

She opened the gate and entered to find her husband waiting for her on the front steps.

"You should have invited him in for a coffee. It's good to have friends in unknown cities."

His hands were stuffed in his pockets, as he watched her calmly. His clothes were the same as from the last night. The pale yellow porch light illuminated his features, revealing a haggard look. His skin was pallid, his face had a sickly grey pallor.

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Something heavy settled in her heart as she finally met his eyes. They were distant, closed, cut-off, just like hers. They were tired, yet stubbornly persistent, just like hers.

Yet there was something about him, a fragile vulnerability as if he would break by a slight breeze. As if a slight touch would crush him and crumble him to pieces. Her heart lurched as she had a weird urge to rush into his arms, to hug him close. For a weird moment, it felt like they both needed it.

Startled, she bit her lip. Her stupidity was what had gotten her here in the first place.

"Maybe some other time," she heard herself say. "He was busy today."

Shaking her head, she strode in without sparing him another glance. She had worked hard today to keep him off her mind but his one look was enough to unravel her. This would not do. She had to harden herself. She had to make sure he had no power over her.

Besides, she had work to do. Her day at the gurdwara had helped her regroup but there was a lot to finish here. She needed to clean the room, unpack and settle here at her ‘home’ as comfortably as possible. She didn't know how long she’d have to spend here before she was free.

Sighing, she entered the room when a strong smell of paint assaulted her. She looked around and frowned.

The room looked different. The walls gleamed with fresh pearly white, new silk curtains hung on the window. A sumptuous new bed had replaced the old one. In a corner stood a large white wardrobe with gleaming mirrors.

Her luggage too had disappeared from the corner which probably meant someone had done her unpacking. On the side through the open bathroom door, she could see fresh white tiles, a floor-to-ceiling mirror, a replica of her mirror back home, just smaller.

“You can’t use it yet. It needs twenty-four hours for the paint to dry and to settle the grout,” her husband’s voice came from behind.

Pursing her lips, she turned around to find him waiting at the doorstep.

Don’t overstep your boundary, she had warned him yesterday. She was pleased to see he remembered that important detail.

“This was not necessary,” she said off-handedly. “I am here only for a few days.”

“It was necessary, for how much ever long you are here.”

His eyes flitted around the room as if to check everything was to his satisfaction. Her hackles raised with each passing moment.

“If you expect me to thank you after last night..”

His head snapped to her.

“I don’t expect anything from you, Aditi. Last night will not repeat. And I hope you too will not repeat what you did today.”

She frowned. “I can go wherever I like, whenever I like.”

“This is Delhi, not Palampur Aditi.” He shook his head and let out a tired breath. “You have to be careful. Going forward, please make sure you inform me of your whereabouts. And please answer my calls, at least one of them.”

Her face reddened. There were more than forty unanswered calls on her phone. From six in the morning to seven in the evening, he had tried every hour until she turned it off.

“One would say you deserve it,” she replied curling her lip. A shadow passed his face.

“Yes, I did. As I said, it will not repeat. I am sorry.”

Turning on his heels, he left the room. Aditi stared at his back, then moved forward to shut the door.

*****

Painting - Done, Carpeting - done. Furniture- Done. Bathroom - Done.

Jasmines? He couldn’t arrange for jasmine flowers at such short notice, but he had placed a vase of roses in her room. His neighbor had a Parijaat tree whose branches overhung the fence on the side of the guestroom window. It was the flowering season, he’d seen the white-red starry flowers sprinkled on the ground through the guestroom window.

He sighed as he tried to remember if he’d missed anything.

A set of house keys for his wife - through Shanta bai of course - he wrote that down in his list. He had to share her number with Shanta bai, in case she refused to pick up his calls like today.

Tomorrow he’d get the plumber to check her bathroom again, make sure all was well. He would not have his wife using the common bathroom, oh no, his princess would not do it!

His eyes felt hot as he rested his tired head on the headboard of his bed. Tired, achy, weary to the bone - he had been like that all day today, right since he realized she’d disappeared. How he had spent his day he didn't know - running behind his builders on one side, calling his detective on the other to find her out. Late afternoon when he was informed of that gurudwara, he had sent a prayer to the heavens above. Yet he forbade them to approach her. That would have driven her away even further and faster.

Instead, he’d stood waiting for her on the front steps for hours until she’d finally arrived home. How he had yearned to rush forward to hug her tight, to scold her to death. She deserved punishment for such unruly behavior, she deserved to be grounded in her room for one whole week.

His eyes prickled in desperation. If that was her punishment, what would it be for him? His conscious asked as well as his subconscious, but he ignored them both. He didn’t know yet. He didn't know how he’d rectify that mistake or if it could even be rectified.

He had blundered in every possible way. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he would do what he’d done that night, that he would be taken over by his father's ghost in the worst possible way.

But it was too late to fix. What was done was done. Life had come a full circle. He had to take a step back to figure out who he was - a rapist's son, a rapist’s brother. A rapist husband, a cheater, fraud, a despicable, low-life bastard.

Hours passed by as he stared into the dark night. Yesterday in this same place he had attacked her in his depravity. He wished he had somewhere else to go, but here he was, trapped in his own memories, stuck with his own ghastly self.

Morning came. He gave Shanta bai his instructions and left for work. It was time his holiday was truly over. It was time he got back to work and did something worthwhile.

***** *****