The Wedding Tamasha | PUBLISHED

Chapter 1

'Shweta!' Julie called. 'It's time to line up those jars. Quick! Hurry up!'

As usual, Shweta hadn't noticed that the dishes were done. She stopped her cleaning and chopping midway, and hurried to the dishwasher. She wiped each jar carefully and set it beside the matrix of the sparkling, already-cleaned jars she'd formed on the counter. She stacked up the lids right next to them, all ready to be packed as soon as Julie filled them with the salsa.

Julie filled and handed the jars to Shweta who screwed on the lids tight. The jars were still warm as Shweta wiped each one before setting them into a crate that would be placed in a trolley when it was full. There were at least a hundred such jars for sale each morning.

The café had a seating for about a dozen people. Though small, it was just enough for Julie and, occasionally, her daughter, Sarah, to manage. They lived in the rooms at the back, and Shweta had been allowed to share the one upstairs with Max. He was their handyman, cook, cleaner and odd-jobs man, all-in-one.

'Where's Max?' Shweta asked, suddenly remembering that he had been missing since morning. Max had recently moved in with a friend and she had begun to miss him already.

Max walked in just then, his head hung low, as if hoping that Julie wouldn't catch him for being late. Max had dark short hair and lean muscles, the type that came from physical labour.

He shambled over to the counter where he took out the rolling pin and started rolling out the tortillas. If Julie had seen him come in late, she didn't bring it up. Max was late every day since he had moved out.

Max began to roll the tortillas thin and round, with perfection, and arranged them on the counter for cooking them on the iron griddle. Today, he'd forgotten to switch on the radio and Shweta reached up to the rack above the dishwasher to turn it on. Soft music flooded the kitchen as she went on with her chores. The chicken and beef needed to be prepped. The pork chorizo sausages needed to be scoured; the lettuce washed, dried and shredded; the jalapenos and peppers chopped. She'd become faster since last week, and was already on to the task of blending the fruit juices before the regular trickle of customers started.

The office crowd started pouring in during lunch hour, the door repeatedly jingling. Shweta stayed in the kitchen, preparing the orders that Julie called out.

Shweta got twenty minutes off for lunch, which was always burrito. She made her way out through the back exit and passed the dumpster on her way to a bench under a tree in the parking lot. She opened her packed bowl and dug in. The aroma of chicken curry emanated from the Kebab Corner next door and Shweta drooled at the mouth-watering smell. She missed her mother's chicken curry like hell. She wished she had the courage to go back home to her family.

The café closed at eight p.m. As Shweta trudged to her room upstairs, she was surprised to be greeted by the sound of the TV. As she let herself in, she saw Max lying on the single bed, watching a TV show. A pot of soup gurgled on the stove, its rich aroma wafting to where she stood at the door. The room suddenly seemed livelier with Max around and she smiled, forgetting how much her legs ached.

'Sorry, I needed a place for tonight,' Max said, as soon as she entered. 'Soup?'

'Yes, please. And you're most welcome anytime,' Shweta said, overjoyed to see him back, even if it was only for one night. She propped herself on the bed with her legs outstretched while Max brought two steaming bowls of soup and settled down next to her. They watched The Lucy Show as they sipped their soup and laughed at Lucy's madness.

Shweta turned to Max. 'Will you come for lunch on Sunday? I'm making biryani. Then we'll go shopping for a new movie DVD.' She was making biryani after weeks.

Max nodded excitedly.

As they finished the soup and relaxed in front of the TV, Max told her about his spat with his new roommate. She felt worse for his having moved out.

Shweta let him talk. Then she told him all about her encounter that morning with Julie's grandson, Pete, the police officer. Max chuckled at her description of Pete's parting grin. 'Maybe he fancies you!'

She smirked. 'Funny that you scare someone you fancy.'

It was late when they finally settled in for the night. Max insisted on taking his mattress and sleeping under the window across the bed. Shweta fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

***

Sometime in the night, Shweta woke up to a bad dream. In her dream, she was in a cell, reeking with the stench of piss, with strange faces staring at her. Raj was standing at the door of the cell, his grey eyes laughing frightfully at her. She trembled and sat up on the bed.

At the opposite corner beneath the window, the dim night light revealed Max's shadowy sleeping form. She let out a deep breath, thankful for his presence.

Shweta sat up on the bed, unable to get back to sleep. Drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around herself, she shuddered in the darkness.

What if Raj found her here, just five minutes from her home, or at least what used to be her home until a week and a half ago?