In love's embrace, a blade is spun —
one side to wound, the other to stun."
My arrival in Kerala was forgettable.
No one was glad, no one upset.
No garlands, no greetings.
The people of the colony didn't flinch—they weren't curious, annoyed, or even slightly amused. They were just... there.
Sarla didn't say a word. Neither did Mathur.
Meera and Sumeet barely looked at me.
The only one who showed a flicker of joy was Karthik.
Not because he missed me, but because he didn't want to lose his newest toy.
Still, he said nothing. Maybe Sarla had warned him. Or maybe he wanted to drag out his little game.
He eventually slipped back to his house, leaving behind a few girls—damaged, discarded.
And just like that, three weeks passed.
The night was unusually cold, and the breeze slipping in through the window made the room even colder. Sleep seemed beyond my reach, and I lay there staring at the ceiling, watching the fan revolve slowly.
A knock on the door and a shadow just outside startled me. I turned to look at Sumeet, who was still sleeping soundly. Quietly, I rose from the ground and walked to the door.
"Who is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I am Sarla David. Open the door."
I opened the door slowly, and the moment Sarla saw me, he shoved it open harder, nearly banging it against my forehead.
"Were you asleep?" His voice was mild, but carried an edge of authority.
"No. I tried, but this night doesn't seem to want me to."
"Same here." A faint grin flickered across his face. He put an arm around my neck, pulling me firmly toward his torso.
"Let's go for a walk." His words sounded more like a command than a suggestion.
He practically dragged me outside, guiding me toward the open verandah.
"Something's been bothering me these past few days," he said without meeting my eyes. His grip around my neck tightened.
"What is it?" I asked, gently trying to pull away.
"I've been feeling uneasy. Raju's sudden death, Aanchal's disappearance, Meera acting strangely... all of it, happening together. It doesn't feel like coincidence. Something vicious is unfolding right under my nose."
He finally turned to look at me. His eyes—darker than the night—locked onto mine.
"What do you think? Am I right to feel this way? Or is it just my imagination?"
"What can I say? It's your opinion," I replied with a faint smile.
His face twitched, but there was no anger in it.
"The problem isn't just opinion, Suraj. This is real. My brother is dead—and people are saying Anthony killed him. Threw him into the fire. But why wait so long? Why not kill him earlier? Raju practically lived at that place. Even if I accept that it was part of some plan, what about Aanchal eloping the same night? She and Ravi had been together for years. Why now? Why leave just before my brother is killed—in the same house where she lived?
"And Meera... she's changed. Defiant. She argues with me openly now. We've been together for so long, and she never once raised her voice. Now, she throws harsh words at me like knives. I don't know how you're seeing all this, Suraj... but something's definitely happening. And it's not going to end well for any of us."
He pulled me along, and we sat down on a wooden bench a few yards from his house. The yellow light of the street lamp bathed us, casting long shadows and illuminating his weary face. I noticed the moisture in his eyes—he was genuinely hurting.
I patted his shoulder, offering what little comfort I could. He gave me a weak smile in return.
He pulled a small glass bottle from inside his shirt, twisted off the lid, and took a sip. The smell of cheap, raw alcohol instantly cut through the cold night air. He extended the bottle toward me.
"Have some."
"No. I don't drink."
"It'll keep you warm. Just a little. It won't kill you overnight."
Before I could protest further, he pushed the bottle toward my mouth. The acrid stench hit my nose before the burning liquid scorched my mouth and throat, leaving a fire trailing down to my chest.
"Who's in your family?" he asked, the question catching me off guard.
"All of them are in heaven," I said with a faint smile.
"What killed them?"
"Poverty." I paused. "Well... not poverty exactly. It played a role. But violence—violence finished the job. There was a local goon named Gauri. Originally from Bihar, but he'd settled in Mumbai. My father, an honest man, stood up to him. Wanted justice. It cost him his life—and my mother's, and my sister's. I survived to carry the pain."
The story was fabricated—but not entirely false. In some strange way, it echoed my truth. Maybe that's why the tears came so easily.
He patted my shoulder, a rare gesture of comfort.
"My past's not so different," he said quietly. "Only difference was—there was no goon. My father was the goon. Always drunk. Always angry. He beat my mother, beat us. One day, in a rage, he killed her. And I killed him in retaliation."
He paused, staring at the empty street.
"Raju was still young then. Barely had teeth. Bald little head. I swore I'd never let him turn out like our father. But fate..." He exhaled bitterly. "Fate played a cruel joke. Raju died the same way our father did. Violent. Ugly. Pointless."
He turned to me, eyes glassy but intense.
"You know, Suraj... we're all puppets. The strings are in God's hands. No matter how hard we try to change, he just... pulls us back. Makes history repeat."
His voice broke slightly.
"I never wanted to be a bad person. Or an abusive husband. I tried, damn it—I tried everything to be better than him. To escape the evil that surrounded and eventually consumed my father. But still... people compare me to him. The man I killed to protect my brothers... became my shadow."
He paused, then continued with a strange kind of resolve.
"But that ends now. Everything will change. I'll start a new life—away from all this rot. After my father-in-law takes his last breath, Meera and I will leave. We'll go to the U.S., start over. Far away from this dirty past."
He took the final sip from the bottle and hurled it into the bushes. The glass disappeared into the dark, like the past he was so desperate to bury.
He took a long yawn and stretched a little.
"Go sleep. That's enough talking for tonight," he said, standing up all of a sudden and walking away.
I just watched him leave, then dropped onto the bench.
No idea when I actually fell asleep—it just happened.
The first light of morning, along with the tingling pain of mosquito bites, woke me up. I looked around—the sun was just rising, and it wasn't fully daylight yet. I slowly got up from the bench and dragged myself to a nearby handpump. I washed my face, hands, and feet. The water was cold, but refreshing. I scratched at the spots where the mosquitoes had feasted and walked back into the house.
The door was wide open. As I pushed it further, a white cat darted out, giving me a small heart attack. I walked straight to my bed and collapsed onto the mattress. Sumeet's light snoring and the cold breeze from the window lulled me back toward sleep.
But just as my eyes were about to close, the faint sound of anklets startled me. I slowly opened them, just enough to see a pair of white feet standing near me. She walked over and lay down beside me. Her warm bosom touched my cold back, sending a jolt down my spine. I tried to keep my facade, but my body was trembling.
Meera must've thought I was cold—she pressed herself closer and wrapped her arms around my torso.
I'm not going to lie, for a moment, I wanted to turn and kiss her. But Sarla's words echoed in my mind.
Am I really being unfair to him? Am I not giving him a fair chance to fight?
I don't want to be a third wheel in their marriage. But what if Meera truly doesn't want to be with Sarla? What if she wants me?
Would I be sinning by hurting the heart of such a kind woman?
My breathing grew quicker. I took a long, deep breath and closed my eyes. Somehow, Meera understood. She slowly shifted, rolling just a little away from me. Still close enough to make my heart race—but now, I could finally sleep in peace.
Her sweet scent and quiet warmth carried me gently into dreams.
I slowly opened my eyes and saw Sumeet folding the mattress.
"You sweated a lot last night. It was colder than usual. Are you feeling okay?"
His voice carried genuine concern.
"Yeah, I'm alright. Sweating is natural—I do it sometimes. Nothing to worry about."
I chose to hide the real reason behind it.
"Hmm, okay. Anyway, Sarla was calling for you earlier. But Meera told him you were sleeping, and strangely, he didn't push it. Did something happen?"
"No," I replied, forcing a small chuckle. "I don't think showing a bit of humanity is a crime—even for Sarla."
Sumeet raised an eyebrow.
"When I walked in, I thought I smelled perfume. Like a woman had been here. Did you bring someone?"
"Don't talk nonsense. Where would I find a woman in the middle of all this mess?"
"What tension?" he asked, frowning.
"Nothing major. Just that we were on a mission—remember?"
He shrugged. "That mission's long gone. Mr. Henderson suspended it a month ago. Ms. Maria and Sir Lorenzo have been reassigned."
"What?" I asked, suddenly wide awake. "Then what are we doing here?"
"Protocol says we should disappear into the night and return to London within a week. But apparently, staying here is more important than following protocol. The mission might be suspended vocally, but on paper—it's still active. We have exactly one month before it's scrapped for good."
He patted my shoulder.
"So from now on, we start acting like we're still on a mission."
Then he turned and walked out of the room.
I slowly walked towards Meera's room. I didn't know why, but I wanted to meet her — even after not appreciating her efforts last night.
Standing before the closed door, I gathered all the courage I could muster. Taking a long breath, I finally pecked the wood with my knuckles.
The door stayed shut.
I knocked again, a little louder this time.
Finally, it opened — but instead of Meera, it was Raju.
He looked at me; I looked at him.
His expression was pure confusion. Mine was pure fear.
"What are you doing here?" he barked.
"I... I wanted to talk to Meera ma'am about something."
"What thing?"
"Actually, the fan in our room makes a loud, irritating noise. I just wanted to ask if Meera ma'am could do something about it..."
He narrowed his eyes, suspicious.
"Do you think Meera, Sarla, or even I give a damn about your comfort? Get lost."
He shoved me roughly aside and stomped away.
"What a brute," I whispered under my breath.
I searched for Meera everywhere — the kitchen, the verandah, near the well, even the bathrooms — but she was nowhere. It was as if she had vanished into thin air.
Finally, defeated, I retreated to my room.
I lay down on the floor, staring up at the ceiling fan spinning above me.
It did make an eerie, grating sound. But right now, that was the least of my worries.
My eyes slowly drifted shut, pulling me into uneasy sleep.
Somewhere between afternoon and early evening, my phone buzzed.
Groggily, I picked it up.
A message. From an unknown number.
"Meet me in the colony at 5. Don't be late. It's urgent. Your life might be in danger."
I stared at the screen, my heart pounding.
Who was it?
What danger?
Why would anyone care about me?
Questions swirled in my mind like a storm...