Enduring Longing
That morning as the Minar reached Dadar, Raja Rao and Sandhya were all set to alight. Having exited from the railway station, aided by a couple of porters who carried their luggage, they hired a cab to Chembur. Soon, Sandhya stepped into that spacious flat to the warmth of her in-laws’ greetings.
‘How’s he behaving?’ said Gopala Rao in jest, taking himself away from ‘The Times of India’.
As Sandhya smiled coyly, enquired Visala, ‘How is everyone at Kakinada?’
‘All are fine,’ said Sandhya. ‘My parents were particular that I should convey their pranaams to both of you.’
‘Are the Thimmaiahs keeping fit?’ said Gopala Rao to his son. ‘Is the roof still in place at our house?’
‘They’re evergreen as ever, said Raja Rao, ‘and nothing seems to change in Kothalanka.’
‘She must have felt it funny there really,’ Visala smiled.
‘Oh, no,’ said Sandhya reminiscently, ‘it was all so wonderful, thanks to the grand couple.’
‘How’s Roopa? We all took to her a lot,’ said Visala appreciatively, ‘Hyma was just bowled over.’
‘She values you all no less,’ said Sandhya.
‘Are they acting on our invitation?’ enquired Visala.
‘Maybe, they would be able to make it soon,’ said Sandhya, and wondered. ‘But why did Roopa fail to tell me about it! Well, didn’t she lose her way in Raja’s charms? It’s nice that his family has taken to her too. And that helps, just in case.’
‘How’s Hyma and my naughty BIL?’ enquired Raja Rao.
‘They’re all so eager to spend some time with Sandhya,’ said Visala.
After having spent a mirthful day at her father-in-law’s house all day, Sandhya with her husband went in the evening to her sister-in-law’s place at Andheri.
‘You look exquisite,’ Dr. Hyma hugged Sandhya. ‘And how’s Roopa?’
‘She is fine,’ said Sandhya. ‘She’s all praise for you.’
‘We’ve heard that you’re great friends,’ said Dr. Ranga Rao. ‘It’s nice to have a friend like her. She’s quite impressive.’
‘Had she had her way,’ said Sandhya reminiscently, ‘she would have been well on her way to join your profession.’
‘Oh, how the medical fraternity,’ said Dr. Rao mimicking sadness, ‘missed a charming lady then.’
‘This is MCP syndrome,’ said Hyma in mock anger, ‘the inability to appreciate woman other than for her charms.’
‘Raja, it’s good you got married at last,’ said Perindevi, Ranga Rao’s mother, who joined them in the meantime, ‘and that too a nice girl.’
‘You look fifty at your seventy,’ Raja Rao greeted her while Sandhya bowed at the old woman’s feet who took a close look at her.