Under The Mango Trees

Chapter Four : In Between Amusements

My father escorted Lila and her mother to the palatial hall and the second I turned around to find my way to the washroom for the hundredth time, I heard my mother's voice, "What's under your feet, Tulsi?" The trampled flowers entangled with my hair lay miserably under my heels looking as appalling as some faecal matter. Hair had this mysterious tendency to become disgusting the minute they fell out of our heads and landed on the floor like feathers of a city pigeon. My mother picked it up with her nose scrunching and she threw it in the nearest dustbin. Her daughter's DNA. "People haven't even started gathering and they're already dirtying this place."

"I know right," I muttered under my breath, again turning around to go to the washroom.

A voice interrupted my task, "Aye, Tulsi. Your sister is making us wait for so long."

My mother's two sisters' appeared, complaining because they solely wanted to eat at the buffet. That wouldn't open till my sister showed her bridal face and they could thrust an envelope of money in her henna tattooed hands, taking an awkward picture on the stage as an evidence of being present. The photo albums of the wedding would be stuffed in the back of the cupboard where it gathered dust and insects.

"I'll go check up on her." I took this opportunity to finally attend to my toilet business and scurried away from them, catching one of the aunt's words, 'Tulsi, where are the flowers I put in your hair?'

That made me run faster and spotting a dingy alley that indicated the common washrooms were situated there, I kept my focus steady on the path in front of me. I entered the women's washroom and almost instinctively stopped breathing through my nose. I was expecting a foul stench. However, the place albeit dilapidated was clean and I could smell the freshness of the trees behind the washrooms. One of its branches extended inside through the window like a caged elephant's trunk reaching for a coconut in a tourist's hand.

I lifted my top up and tried to untie the cord which held my pants together, uneasily bouncing on my feet. But the stubborn knot refused to unravel under my tense fingers. There was nobody there in the washroom to ask for help and each pressurizing, ticking second made me bounce more. I rushed out and unsurprisingly nope, there was not a single person on this planet who could have thought of hanging outside the washroom maybe for fun or something similar.

I knew that I didn't have the ability to walk further in search of someone, so I stood there hopelessly fidgeting with the cord and contemplating my options. Just then, from the men's washroom opposite to the women's, emerged a familiar figure wiping his wet face with a handkerchief. My hands dropped to my sides as our eyes connected. I impulsively took a step forward to ask, but then decided against it which made him quirk an eyebrow in question.

I couldn't not say anything after my hesitant movement so I said, "You're my sister's husband's brother, no?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I'm Dev."

Heat rose to my cheeks at having forgotten his name as he stood awkwardly in front of me, unsure whether to leave or wait for some response.

"Yeah, can you help me?" I asked in a small, wavering voice like someone's voice cracking when singing. Then I looked down and subtly showed him the cord from underneath my top without meeting his eyes. "This-This is stuck. Can you unfasten it?"

There was a pause for a fraction of a second and I didn't dare to look up. My gaze was concentrated on the concrete ground where I wanted to bang my head till the cement ruptured and I bled to a slow, tormented death. That would overpower this acute embarrassment. But then, I saw his golden juttis which were curved upwards in the front like Pied Piper's shoes under my eyes. I slightly raised my head and the moment our eyes met, I lowered my gaze again. This situation was just weird.