All Strings Attached

Chapter Eight

I simply nod back under his mother's watchful gaze. She smiles at me when she notices I'm looking at her. "Right," she realises, "what was I talking to you about?"

"Dhruv," I remind her, "about his wedding."

"Mhm," she hums, shaking her head in a 'no'. "There's no wedding as of yet," she says, "we wanted Dhushyanth to marry first, so we've held Dhruv off on it. But he is eager to marry."

"He seems to really love her," I comment, seeing that she's paused.

Sarika aunty smiles sweetly, but I can tell it is a superficial one. She's assessing me, seeing how I behave around her family and with her son. Under normal circumstances, perhaps I would've made the effort to show her that I'm interested in my husband-to-be but these circumstances are hardly normal.

"That he does," she agrees, "he has made it very clear, but we're yet to speak to Dhriti's parents."

"Oh," I respond, wondering why she wouldn't speak to Dhriti's parents.

"It's just that we wanted Dhruv's sister-in-law to be a part of his wedding," she answers my thoughts, putting on a playful smile, to which I respond with a light chuckle.

"But enough about them," Sarika aunty says, "tell me about the two of you."

I try my best to keep my smile from faltering but that simply results in an awkward smile. Does she expect me to make up a story right now?

I could, but do they actually think Dhushyanth and I like each other?

I turn to look at Dhushyanth who only looks at his mother with a scowl. The left side of his face is illuminated by the soft light from the setting sun, making him look younger than usual. "What about us?" He asks his mother gruffly.

"How did you meet?"

Dhushyanth's scowl deepens. "How do you think, amma?"

"No need to be sassy," his mother retorts, "I meant, how long have you both been seeing each other for? Have you been out together since we confirmed the wedding?"

"We..." I clear my throat nervously when Sarika aunty and Dhushyanth both turn to look at me the same time. "It began in London, I suppose," I answer vaguely, "during our vacation. Since, we've been meeting when Dhushyanth is in Bangalore."

"That's such a long while ago," she notes, "commendable that you've both managed to keep it a secret for so long."

"I guess Bangalore has its own scandals without adding Dhushyanth and I to the mix," I attempt to joke.

Sarika aunty smiles, and for the first time in the last few weeks, I feel like she isn't judging me, which I take to be a good sign. "You once mentioned a business, Sita?" She enquires, "one that you wanted to set up? How's that going?"

I force a smile to stay on my face. "I wanted to set up a handloom business," I tell her, "I wanted to create a space to sell these silks to customers for buy acting as an intermediary between the people who produce them and the buyers—"

"But that's what saree stores do already?" She wonders out loud.

"This was supposed to be more of a developmental thing for the underprivileged families," I answer, "my margins were going to be really low. I wanted to create a supply chain that would benefit the buyer and the seller," I explain to her, "it was mostly geared towards women, something to help widows, single mothers, artisans, keep the craft alive."

"That sounds like a great idea," she commends, "and a very thoughtful one. So you weren't really expecting to gain any profits from this business?"

I shake my head slowly, remembering my plans from a few years ago. It was supposed to help so many people. "The business model isn't as much structured for profit," I agree, "but I was meant to make profits within two- maybe two and a half years at the most, based on the initial market research, and we would divert these profits towards setting up an investment fund for entrepreneurs from low-income families, obviously by partnering with other sponsors, as well. It was supposed to be largely service-oriented."