Poles Apart

Chapter Thirty-Two

But now, it turns out so, that even that isn't happening.

My mother always told me that even if you're not around for your family's happy moments, you never leave their side when they're going through rough times.

Family doesn't leave one another hanging, does it? If it does, how is it to be family at all?

A man and his sons, that hadn't once called to check up on my grandfather, much less visit him, were now asking for a share in his properties. How are they to receive anything?

~.~.~.~.~

Following my mother's instructions, we'd gone back to the lake house/ guest house. By the time we went back, Ammamma had the mattresses in the rooms replaced, thankfully.

A maid had gone to the house before us, and laid out some mats in the lawn, for us to sit and watch the still lake.

The lake was still, but it was also a calming sight. Some of us rushed to the comfort of the beds, and some of us stayed behind to sit in the lawn and much on pakoras.

Arjun, who hadn't slept all night because of the travel from Dubai to Hyderabad and then from Hyderabad to Bramapuram, was quick to fall into a deep slumber.

"Mosquitoes must've feasted on your legs," Avni tells Aryan as the last of us sit outside and watch the lake.

Karthik, Kaushik, Pranav and Prithvi had gone to Vijayawada to bring liquor after waking up from a nap. I hadn't thought they'd go through with it but turns out they are. They asked us to tell the maid she can leave by seven so that no one knows of our little party.

"Why though? His blood must've been bitter like he is," Rohan comments.

"And yours is sweet? Is that why they left yours to be?" Avni asks Rohan.

Rohan shrugs, sipping his Thums Up (taste the thunder). They don't have coke around here, anywhere in this town, so we settled for Thums Up.

"Maybe they didn't want diabetes," Rohan offers.

Aryan, the one that was stung, rather harshly, remains silent through it all. I touch the puffed areas indicating the sting of the mosquitoes.

"Your hand's cold," Aryan remarks, sighing. "It's soothing."

"Magical hands," I boast playfully, winking at him. Effects of anaemia, more like.

"Avni, bring some moisturiser," I tell her, inspecting Aryan's legs. The mosquitoes really seem to have feasted on his legs.

"Ew. I don't want any moisturiser," Aryan rejects the idea. Avni looks at me, asking if she should bring it, and point indoors, asking her to go and get it.

"What do you mean ew?" I ask him, sternly. "Look at your legs."

"Moisturiser is sticky and gross," he complains, pulling his legs back, out of my hands.

"Moisturiser will feel cold against the skin. And look at how you've scratched yourself," I reprimand. The scratch marks are evident against his dry skin.

Avni hands me the moisturiser and lies down on the mat, looking up at the sky. I stare at Aryan, not saying a word until he stretches his legs out to me.

Calmly, I rub the moisturiser onto the mosquito bites. "Rakshasi," Aryan grumbles. [(Telugu) she-devil]

I pout, feigning sadness. "Did I tell you that I meant to be an angel?"

He looks back at me with an expression that says I-can't-deal-with-you. It's one that I'm awfully familiar with.

"Arjun Bava," Rohan brings to notice the six-foot-three-inches human that is leaning against the door to the lawn.