Dev's brother tapped his leg in reassurance which encouraged him to get up. His face was stony like a statue, but his gait did not betray his indignation. He brushed past me, leading the way as if this was his house, but he did so naturally and abstractedly with no hint of arrogance. He was a head taller than me and despite his tallness, he wasn't all gangly and awkward, the blue kurta fit his body snugly in a way that accentuated his broad shoulders and torso and there was an easy elegance in his walk. I judged him to be two or three years older to me, not more than that, yet he exuded a maturity that suggested he had the wisdom of someone who knew about the world. Perhaps it was that smile secretive of the knowledge that it hid, the smile that I couldn't forget from our first meet.

I didn't enter my bedroom where he would be, prolonging it by scooping out ice cream in the kitchen. It was still eight pm and I didn't envision them going away before ten pm at least. My mother had prepared food accordingly, there were still late-night snacks and sweets untouched. A big cloth bag containing the sweets that their family had brought over for Diwali lay on the middle of the countertop among used pots and dishes. Eventually, a lot of time had passed for me to keep evading the situation so I had to go to my room with the already melted two bowls of vanilla ice cream.

Dev was sitting on my bed, right next to the cotton shorts that I had worn earlier. I didn't remember leaving it there, he must have touched it or rather pushed it to make space for himself. Mortified, I quickly placed the two bowls on Pavitra's bed and yanked the cotton shorts, over half of which he had been unknowingly sitting. He got up midway and out of the cotton shorts, the chewed carrot fell out on the floor. I nearly put it back in my mouth, panicked, till I registered the look of surprise on his face. Turning back, I walked briskly to the dustbin in the kitchen, threw it, cursed and calmed myself. When I entered again, I was serene like a saint and served him the ice cream which was now a soup, all done gracefully.

"You would not want to watch Netflix," I mumbled to myself while sitting on Pavitra's bed. I didn't blame him for keeping away from the ice cream bowl as far as possible, one would feel guilty eating that at a time where one's sibling's fate was hanging by the words uttered by their parents. His hands were gravely folded on his lap and he concentrated on the faint voices that emanated from the living room, those voices felt as distant as the vehicles running down the street and the firecrackers exploding in the sky. He suddenly opened his eyes as if he had heard something important. Those deep-set eyes were a shiny honey colour under the warm glow of the paper lantern.

The change in his physiognomy evoked curiosity in me too and I leaned conspicuously towards the door. "Did you hear something?" But the moment I listened, there was a long pause. I was getting frustrated every minute so I blurted out,  "Can you tell me what happened between Pavitra and your brother? I know you feel as if you're breaking your brother's trust, but you're only saving another family---"

"We covered for all the wedding expenses! Right from booking the hall to the varieties of food! We even respected the groom's choice of keeping only vegetarian options, that too from his favourite restaurant. It cost us so much, but we didn't complain one bit. We considered our daughter's future and we wanted to do everything we could do for her," I heard my mother rambling feverishly. She was right, after all, times were changing and the groom's family had to take up half the burden. I couldn't help but look critically at Dev, wondering what he had to say to this. He grimly noticed my laser-sharp eyes, but he wasn't brave enough to say anything in defence.

"It wasn't like that . . . " the soft voice of Dev's mother was cautious and respectful. "My husband and I offered to pay for everything. We have been saving up for our son's wedding, just like people do for their daughter's wedding. But Pavitra's father refused to accept money from us . . . "

"What?" It was as if I had heard my own thoughts in my mother's stunned voice. "What do you mean he didn't accept?" Nobody responded to that so she addressed my father in Marathi, "Aho, don't you have anything to say to this?"

I could hear my father's intake of a nervous breath. "It's a tradition. The daughter's family has to . . ." I heard him stop and start speaking again, this time more nervously. "It was our dear daughter's wedding. I should do at least this much as a father."

The most absurd curses and all kinds of words in Marathi were soon thrown by my mother at my father in a voice that tried to be subdued, but the rage rebounded off it and we all could discern my father's humiliation. He was defenceless like a criminal who was discovered by the world. Any attempt to justify would rile my mother and add to both their humiliation. There was no safe space for him to hide and I had an epiphany as my eyes swept over Dev who rolled his long sleeves, folded his arms, leaned back and confidently met my gaze, I had no safe space to hide either.

I felt a sudden need to speak something, his unswerving gaze had unnerved me. "I don't know why they're discussing such trivial stuff . . . The subject matter is my sister and your brother's marriage."

His sleeves quietly rustled as he refolded his arms, considering what I had said. "Do you think we should discuss them at all?"

I didn't know what to say to that, no clever comebacks, nothing. A rational mind would agree with him wholeheartedly, but this was our society where I doubted if most had a mind to begin with. We had compromised so much for a community in which each participant was highly individualistic. People like Dev who spoke up would ultimately be excluded and the rest would function where they had last left off. There was no use meddling in other people's affairs, that was what would keep me alive, being the person that I was.

"I didn't mean it like that," I explained hopelessly. I didn't want him to see me as someone who was orthodox and supported parental control. However, it seemed like he had moved on from the earlier topic, so I didn't try to convince him further. Instead, I took the advantage of him speaking to me finally and enquired again, "I'm sorry that I keep asking you this. But do you know what happened between them to lead to this? That day, you told me that it was my sister's fault, but it wasn't. Your brother asked her to drop her career and she did." That ironic look was back on his face, this time contemptuous and disbelieving. The way his lips curled and the sardonic humour in his eyes made me feel like I had said something irreparable. Quickly, I added, "I mean that was what she said."

Yes, I was one faithful and good sister.

Before I could hear him answer, his mother called him and he got up to leave. But I wasn't going to let my begging go to waste, I had embarrassed myself enough to give up just like that. I urgently caught the hem of his kurta and he halted, regarding me with the same amusement that I recognized from our first meet. "Please tell me. I swear I won't tell my parents or anyone. I need to know this. After you all leave, you can't imagine what's it like living here with . . . Sorry, it would be nice if you just tell me."

"It's not my place to tell you," he said without any trace of amusement now and I let go of his kurta. He was looking directly at me, waiting for I didn't know what as I kept my eyes averted to the floor. "I can understand what it must be like living with what's happening."

"Then why the hell do you not tell me," I cried out in my mind, wanting him to go away before I had a chance to pull his hair.

"You really think that it's my sister's fault? Her fault for having a job? If anything is her fault, it's marrying your brother," I said, at last, my voice faltering, but I had said what was needed to be said. He couldn't come here and make me and my family look like a clown. I didn't hear from him, instead, I watched his feet step away and leave the room. Without saying anything, he still managed to look like the wiser one. Goddammit!

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(This chapter was the second update today)