Unsaid, Undone.

-MRS. MUKHERJEE-

Adrija watched the water in the saucepan absently; as it bubbled from the heat of the stove. It was yet another humid day today; and despite the high pony she had pulled her hair into, she could feel the sweat at the nape of her neck. There were quite a few thoughts racing through her head that instant, for it wasn't every day that her mother decided to her pay her a visit.

Unlike her father, she had informed Adrija of her visit prior to her arrival and so far, Adrija could detect no ulterior motive on her part to come see her.

"You could skip the cup of tea, Adrija. I am here to meet you." Her mother called; turning on her spot on the sofa, and Adrija snapped back to the present.

"Almost done, Ma. I'll be right there!" she replied, expertly pouring the hot water into the strainer already filled with the tea leaves.

Mrs. Mukherjee had been detected with type two diabetes at a very young age. Of the many restrictions the disease brought with it, no sugar in tea was one Adrija had grown up to see her mother practice.

Out of her own old habit, she too omitted adding any sugar to her tea. It had always felt too cruel to her to be eating or drinking something that her mother had been restricted from consuming.

"Here you go." She chimed, placing the tray with both tea cups on the tiny centre table in front of the sofa.

Her mother smiled fondly; as she picked up one of the biscuits kept before her. A companionable silence took over the room, as both women quietly sipped at the hot beverage.

"How are you?" Mrs. Mukherjee was the first to ask.

Unlike her father; who hadn't tried even the slightest bit to assess the locality he was visiting; her mother had very clearly underplayed her whole attire for the visit. Instead of the expensive chiffon sarees she usually donned; today she had chosen to wear a light pink chikankari kurta with leggings. Her shoulder length, salon- done brown coloured hair had been pulled into a modest, low bun and for makeup; she had kept things simple with some light foundation, a delicate liner in the eyes and a nude brown lipstick.

Despite her subtle choices today, Adrija couldn't help but admire her mother's quiet sophistication in awe. She was one hell of an attractive woman, someone who almost always made heads turn in a room full of strangers.

She had often wondered where those genes had disappeared when it came to her; she wasn't even half as attractive as her mother.

"Good. How's...everything at home?"

Mrs. Mukherjee gave a quick, short shrug, "Your Father hasn't been talking much lately."

Adrija let out a reflexive scoff, "Of course, things aren't going his way."

"You know it's not just about that. He may be an egoistic man, but when it comes to you, he's very sensitive."

Adrija chose not to respond to that statement, as she quietly sipped at her tea.

"Is it just...him finding out about Pritha and Mihir or...is there something more?"

Nilima Mukherjee crossed one leg over the other and helped herself with the cup of tea as she responded gravely, "I came clean to him."

"About?" Adrija urged curiously.

"About my knowledge of the subject of Pritha and...and Mihir."

Adrija bit her lip wearily, a little surprised at seeing her mother take a stand for something for the first time in many, many years. Perhaps, the first time anyway. As far as her youngest memories went, it was of an out and out patriarchal setup at home.