Us, Phir Se

CH:1 The Morning Before

The first light of dawn had only begun to settle over Shantiniketan when Tulsi stepped into the courtyard.

The haveli still belonged to the silence of early morning, the kind of silence that disappeared the moment the family awoke. Soft golden light filtered through the carved jharokhas and spread delicate patterns across the cool marble floor. The crisp December breeze carried the fragrance of jasmine, damp earth, and incense from the mandir.

In the centre of the courtyard stood the Tulsi Vrindavan, its white marble freshly washed and adorned with marigold petals. Tiny droplets of water shimmered across its surface beneath the waking sun.

Carrying a brass thali in her hands, Tulsi walked towards it with the ease of someone who no longer thought about the journey.

For three decades, almost every morning had begun here.

Before breakfast was prepared, before newspapers arrived, before board meetings, school runs, family conversations and countless responsibilities filled the house, there was always this quiet moment.

She lit the diya, folded her hands, and closed her eyes.

Thirty years.

The thought had stayed with her since she had woken that morning.

Thirty years since she had entered Shantiniketan as Mihir Virani's bride, hiding her nervousness behind a shy smile and layers of bridal jewellery. Thirty years of watching children grow into adults and then parents themselves. Of festivals that filled every room with laughter. Of comforting tears, sharing victories, waiting through illnesses, solving problems, and ending countless nights only after making sure every member of the family was safely home.

Somewhere along the way, the years had stopped feeling like numbers.

They had simply become life.

Tulsi opened her eyes slowly and smiled at the flickering flame.

"Main soch raha tha aaj bhi tum mujhe bhool jaogi."

Mihir's voice came from behind her.

Tulsi turned in surprise.

He stood at the edge of the verandah carrying two steaming cups of tea. His pale blue shirt was neatly pressed, though the sleeves were already folded to his elbows, and a dark green blazer rested casually across one shoulder. His black rimmed glasses sat slightly lower than usual on his nose, giving him the familiar look he always had before the day's responsibilities completely claimed him.

Tulsi smiled.

"Tumhe bhoolne ke liye pehle yaad se nikalna padega."

Mihir laughed softly. "Achha? Toh abhi bhi yaad hoon?"

"Hamesha."

He walked towards her and handed her one of the cups before standing beside her near the Tulsi Vrindavan.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

The steam from their tea drifted lazily into the cold morning air. Somewhere beyond the walls of the haveli, the morning newspaper landed against the front gate with a dull thud.

Tulsi took a careful sip.

"Adrak aaj thodi zyada hai."

Mihir looked almost pleased with himself. "Notice kar liya?"

"Har baar karti hoon."

"Phir kabhi bataya kyun nahi?"

Tulsi looked at him over the rim of her cup. "Jo chai tees saal se peeti aa rahi hoon, usmein thodi adrak zyada ho ya kam, usse kya farq padta hai?"