Life of a Kind
Waking up at eight, Prema sprang to her feet to ring up her friend and as Nithya was waiting for her call, she answered the call by the first ring itself.
“What a coup in the making!” a joyous Nithya soon appraised Chandra about the development and its import on the final act.
“Don’t get carried away and spill the beans,” Chandra cautioned her. “Let it pass off as a twist of destiny.”
After speaking to Nithya, Prema sat down to draft a new twist to Vasu’s destiny. At length, she went to Sathya only to find him stirring in the bed. When she sat on the bed to wake him up, he pulled her into his arms.
“I wish we begin afresh,” he said winking at her.
“Won’t you help me end this chapter first?” she said smug in his embrace.
“Only as a sequel,” he said squeezing her hip.
At length, as they got up for the day, she went into the kitchen.
“There are things to sort out right away,” said Prema as they had their coffee.
“Assign my duties,” he said, “and the responsibilities.”
“Like Kala before me,” said Prema deliberately, “I want to acquire a fresh wardrobe.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Likewise,” she said, “I want to shed him off all that my father gave us.”
“Why to go to such lengths?” said Sathya a little taken aback.
“Well, it’s my whim?” she said spiritedly.
“But still.”
“Stop being considerate to all and sundry,” she said unrelenting. “Won’t it do that I gift them away to the needy of the neighborhood?”
“It’s a point of view.”
“Let’s put the car on sale,” she said in the same vein. “And donate the proceeds to some orphanage.”
“Rob Peter to pay Paul.”
“Why forget he robbed your honey to butter his bread?”
“I wonder how your parents will react,” he said coming to reality.
“Can’t you imagine?” she told him assuredly. “Don’t you know how they wanted me to be your wife? It would be better late than never for them.”
“What a day it would be!” he said dreamily.
“Our wedding day!” she smiled coyly.
“That be our own day,” he said taking her into his arms, “for the rest of our life.”
“I wish we will be around,” she said sinking into his embrace, “to celebrate the golden jubilee.”
“Well, the law of averages might help,” he said hopefully, “for the way we have suffered so far.”
“It’s my promise,” she said lovingly. “I will strive to make you happy every day of those fifty years.”