The Big Swap - Part 35

~THIRTY FIVE~

Rishi staggered to his feet from the ancient sofa the very instant she walked into the living room with her tiny suitcase in tow. Meera pressed her lips into a thin line, trying to supress a laugh seeing the obvious panic she could see take over him.

Tugging at the suitcase, she had only taken two steps in when he rushed to her in quick strides and offered, "I'll take it."

Meera gazed his way disapprovingly and felt something caustic at the tip of her tongue when she was interrupted with,

"Oh it's Meera! Come come." It was Rishi's mum and her Badi Chachi, obviously trying to diffuse the situation.

Rishi rolled his eyes to that for some reason, and Meera sent a forced smile her way in greeting.

"I want to sleep in Dadi's room." she declared to no one in particular.

Her Mother walked out of the kitchen now, wiping her damp hands on the homely, sorry excuse of a night shirt which Meera had once owned. 'SWEET DREAMS', it read, and she found herself recall how much she had had to beg her Father to buy her that shirt from the mall when they'd had an obvious financial crisis at home.

He'd conceded eventually, and she'd ended up wearing that top everywhere but at home, too proud to have bought apparel from a branded store. Back then, it had been a huge deal for them.

"Why? What's the problem with our room?" her Ma posed, showing absolutely zero signs of any happiness at seeing her after nine months.

Her Chachi too, folded her arms before her clearly braless, busty chest in silent agreement with her Mother.

Meera sighed loudly, her gaze shifting to Rishi's nervous disposition. But to her complete surprise, he cut her before she could interrupt with,

"It's okay nah Chachi. She's come back after so long. Let her have her way."

What part of his requesting tone made her Mother drop the subject was a mystery to her, but she didn't object when Rishi dragged Meera's suitcase through the living room and into the balcony, which had been taken inside of the house and converted into a compact room for Dadi after renovation.

"Thank you." She mumbled, when Rishi placed the suitcase along Dadi's old, wooden cupboard which she'd apparently got from her parents back when she'd married into the Modi household.

Rishi shrugged for response and she took that as an end to their futile attempt at striking a conversation. Bending over the suitcase, she began rummaging for a change of clothes before she headed back to the hospital to switch with her Father but Rishi stood lingering at the threshold.

"Want something?"

He took little steps in at that and seated himself on the neatly done, single bed. Taking that as a cue for the start of a conversation, she flipped shut the suitcase again and plonked herself on another end of the bed.

The seconds' hand of the clock ticked audibly as they both sat in a surprising companionable silence.

I think it's safe to say he really means no harm. He misses you, you know. Vedant's words played in her head and she watched him fidget with his fingers. This was something he did when he was nervous, and she wondered what could be the reason for his discomfort. They hadn't looked eye to eye in years, but surely her presence didn't intimidate him. Right?

"I got this for you."

Meera watched as he got up on his feet and disappeared from the door. One minute later, he returned with a brown paper bag.

"What is this?"

He didn't reply, placing the package on the bed and pushing it towards her. Eyes still sceptical his way, she opened the bag and pulled out a beige kurti that was a perfect fit for her frame.

Why is he giving me a gift?

"Um..." she stuttered, at a loss of questions or words for him.

"You weren't there for Rakhi-"

"-you have got to be kidding me Rishi. What do you want?"

Rishi blinked at her without a hint of surprise. "You...don't like it?"

Meera found her brows crease with confusion. Was he drunk or something? Or worse, was he doing drugs?

When was the last time they'd celebrated Rakhi? Eight years ago? Maybe even more.

"I'm tired of this cold war Meera. I miss you."

The fabric of the kurti crumpled under her fingers as she rolled her palms into fists.

"And you think bribing me is going to end it?"

Rishi let out an exasperated gasp, "I've had enough Meera! What do you want from me?"

Her voice dangerously calm, she offered, "If you still don't know the answer to that question Rishi, I don't know why you're trying to begin with."

He sighed, inching closer to her on the bed. Meera gazed at him patiently, and watched him go through a mental debate before he mumbled, "I'm sorry."

Despite herself, she felt like this unknown weight had been lifted off of her shoulders and she gulped.

"You're nine years late and you're saying it to the wrong person. Go apologize to the person you should."

Rishi pressed his forehead. "You know I can't."

"Do I?"

He didn't respond for quite a while at that. "Seriously Rishi, how difficult is it to grow up the balls to apologize for something you did?"

"I can't Meera! Not everybody is like you, okay? I'm not perfect like you!"

Meera gaped at him wide eyed, surprised at his first outburst in years.

"You think I'm...perfect?"

"I don't just think you are. I know that. Look Meera, I fucked up. Big Time and I admit it. But all I'm asking of you is to give me a chance to redeem myself. I've changed. I promise I hav-"

"-tell me one thing Rishi." She cut his rant, as she found herself fold back the kurti gently. "If you needed money, why didn't you ask me for it? What pushed you to steal from your very own house?"

She remembered that day as clearly as if it were yesterday. It had been a usual Sunday morning at their house. The regular fragrance of a thepla tossed onto a burning tava filled the air, and not for the first time in the first month of Rishi's second year in college, he sat in his parents' bedroom with his new set of friends as the sounds of their hyena-like laughs resonated in the living room.

Meera had felt Rishi's increasing detachment with her but had not complained. Today however, she felt rather agitated and reasoned, if she could hang out with his childhood lot of friends, there was no reason for him to mind her entering his room with his new set of friends.

Omitting the ideal knock on the door, she had barged in and frozen on her spot.

Rishi had been standing before Bade Chachu's ajar cupboard, and in his hand she'd seen about a dozen, crisp, five hundred rupee notes. It wasn't a secret in the household that Badi Chachi stashed a huge chunk of Chacha's monthly earnings somewhere in their big cupboard. And Meera couldn't come up with any other explanation for the source of so, much money in his hands.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't understand why he would need that much cash.

He's not stealing. Rishi can't steal from his own parents.

Right then, their eyes had met and his gaze had lowered with an expression that could be read even by a stranger instantly.

He had been stealing. From his own parents.

She'd been about to say something, but Rishi had gathered himself by then, and the next second, the door to the room had been slammed on her face and she'd stood outside, hearing the lock of the room being bolted.

One minute later, the laughter in the room had resumed.

... continued The Big Swap - Part 36