Shortly thereafter, in the wake of the Prasads’ return visit, Sathyam was disappointed. ‘How I wish they had stayed back for dinner,’ he told Roopa. ‘But then, she had a prior commitment, didn’t she?’

‘By now you should know it’s but an excuse,’ said Roopa indignantly. ‘But I won’t blame

her. Why, she got used to the posh living and so it’s not fair to expect her to feel at home in our middle-class home. And to make matters worse for the visitors, you harp on your childhood as if you’ve stopped living thereafter. I feel these days even Prasad is getting tired of your flogging of the dead horse of your childhood.’

‘Maybe you’ve read her right,’ he said turning defensive. ‘But I’m sure you’re off the mark with him. Besides, if it comes to that, you and Sandhya are no different.’

‘You should know that we don’t harp on our past, memorable though it was,’ she said turning nostalgic. ‘We feel the present and dream about our future.’

‘How I wish Sandhya visits us on her way to Kakinada,’ he said, sounding apologetic. ‘It’s a shame we couldn’t make it to Delhi in all these days.’

Recalling how their plans to go to Delhi went awry every time, Roopa thought dejectedly, ‘Leave alone letting me gatecrash into Raja’s life, fate keeps me out of Sandhya’s embrace even.’

As if to place Rani’s unease in their place in its contrast, that Sunday afternoon, Tara visited the Sathyams as they were having their tea after siesta, as Sathyam had developed a taste for tea, fed up giving an explanation for his abstinence.

Strange, indeed, is the way one tends to react to the differing peculiarities in others. None reminds the rotund about the obesity, for the fear of offending them, but when it comes to the lean, unmindful of embarrassing them, all tend to voice their anxiety.

‘Got scarce these days,’ Roopa welcomed Tara, ‘Why so?’

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‘You know its all to with the kids’ studies,’ said Tara as Roopa led her inside. ‘I feel their exam time is more of a testing time for the parents. What about you?’

‘If its typing and shorthand in the mornings,’ said Roopa, ‘then, it’s the course material in the afternoons. The days are passing by.’

‘What of the nights?’ said Tara.

‘Nights follow days,’ said Roopa, ‘don’t they?’

‘Why not let days lead into nights,’ said Tara holding Roopa’s hand.

‘That way, my dreams roll my days and nights all into one,’ said Roopa dreamily.

‘Roopa,’ said Sathyam in high pitch, ‘some tea for Prasad please.’