To Love Or Not To Love| A FEATURED STORY

Epilogue - Anya

A/N

Epilogue is in first person POV, and this is Anya's.

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I took my order of freshly brewed, steaming, filter coffee with two Hatti samosas and sat down at an empty table. It was the newly located Hatti Kaapi next to my temporary work location. Though it did not match the virginal filter coffee from home, it did come a close third. The second was my filter coffee experience with Ajay.

I flipped through the contract documents on my laptop. It was with a prominent construction company. This time the contract period was long, the budget was huge, and so were the expectations.

I'm confident that we would pull through come what may. I'm glad some people have become conscious of making environment-friendly choices for the betterment of society and increase the longevity of our natural resources.

It all began when I went home after the job fiasco. My dust-free room and my bed with a fresh bedspread brought me relief. It was as though I never left.

"I get the maid to clean the place from time-to-time. Your nanna* and I don't want it any other way. Hope you have everything that's needed. The breakfast is ready. Come down once you freshen up," my mother said peeking through my room door.

"We are glad you are back," she included as an afterthought and went away before I could reply.

I was dumbfounded to hear those words from her. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, setting it aside as a casual slip.

That day our breakfast was unusual as we ate in silence without indulging in any of my father's favourite topics. I was lost in thoughts but was fully aware of their gazes that darted to me too often. I didn't know if they pitied me, and I didn't want to know. I bent my head, praying to the unknown almighty to somehow revert to the past where I had been invisible in their presence.

I couldn't take it any longer and stood up from my barely touched breakfast to leave the room with a whispered, "Excuse me!"

"Ammalu*!" my father's insistent voice stopped me in my tracks. I turned around and looked at him. He gestured me to sit down.

"I am tired, and I want to sleep," I said not willing to prolong the interrogation session that I knew would happen.

My parents exchanged glances, and this time my mother insisted, "It'll not take long. Come and sit here." She indicated a chair next to hers. I took a deep breath and sat down.

Minutes passed, and my irritation grew. "If there is nothing to discuss, I want to take rest. I'm tired."

"Ammalu, what happened? You look defeated. You don't give up. Amma and I weren't that thrilled about your career path, but we trust you," he finished emphatically.

My mother nodded and continued in the same breath, "I think it's time you should know something. Anya, research was our top priority, and it still is. You were an active child. In some foolish part of our brain, both of us decided to bring you up as a live experiment.

"We thought if we let you alone, you would exercise your freewill without impediment. We gave you enough books to develop freedom of thought, a strong sense of right and wrong and independence.

"I took comprehensive notes of your progress and guided you to take responsible decisions but in the most detached way. Both of us had fun watching you grow, become individualistic and leave the nest. We wanted to remain unbound to you because we knew you would eventually leave us.