The next day, Paavna decided to take it easy. She had been through too much lately—awkwardness, embarrassment, and the constant feeling of being out of control. Today, she was going to do nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She started her day with a simple breakfast—a cup of strong, hot filter coffee and a couple of dosas with chutney. Perfect. As she ate, she thought about the day ahead. Instead of worrying about anything, she decided to make lunch as well so she wouldn't have to cook again later. No stress, no drama. Efficiency was the key.
Once lunch was done, she plopped down with her sketchbook. Drawing, she thought. Well, at least that's what she told herself. But in reality, it was more like random lines and blobs that didn't resemble anything. But it was fine. It was calming. It kept her mind distracted from everything else that had been going on.
She was just getting lost in her thoughts when she heard a knock at the door.
It wasn't the usual polite tap-tap. No, this was one of those loud, sudden knocks that make you jump out of your seat. Paavna sighed. Who could it be now?
She dragged herself out of her chair, hoping it wasn't more awkwardness waiting for her outside. She opened the door, and there stood Amma with Kaarthi behind her.
The moment Kaarthi saw Paavna, his face broke into a grin. It wasn't just any grin—it was the kind that made her stomach twist. Oh no, not again.
He chuckled under his breath. A low, knowing laugh that immediately made Paavna remember yesterday's... disaster. The awkwardness, the jokes, and that terrible moment when he had laughed at her.
Amma barely looked at Paavna. She simply walked past her and into the kitchen, her expression as blank as ever. Paavna often wondered if Amma even knew how much her silence hurt. These days, Amma didn't smile. She didn't hum while cooking. She was just... there. A shadow of the person she once was.
"Paavna, Kaarthi wanted to drop me off," Amma said flatly, her voice tired. "It's so hot outside; the sun is like fire. Can you make us some tea, beta?"
Paavna didn't say anything. She just nodded and stepped aside to let them in. Amma shuffled into the kitchen to make tea, leaving Paavna alone with Kaarthi.
Kaarthi stood there, looking a little awkward now, his grin replaced with something more thoughtful.
"I... I'm sorry about yesterday," he said after a long pause. His tone was more serious than Paavna had expected. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just joking around."
Paavna turned her head, not wanting to look directly at him. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Why does he have to keep bringing it up?
"I'm fine," she muttered, her voice flat. She didn't want to talk about it anymore. "Really. It's okay."
But Kaarthi wasn't backing down. "Listen, I was just teasing, but I didn't realize how much it bothered you. I shouldn't have made you feel like that."
Paavna finally looked up at him, slightly surprised by his sincerity. "It's okay, Kaarthi. You didn't mean it."
There was a long pause as Kaarthi seemed to be deciding whether or not to say something else. Finally, he spoke again, his voice softer. "Do you remember me, Paavna? From when we were kids?"
Paavna blinked. "Remember you? I... I don't think so."
Kaarthi looked almost disappointed. "When you were younger, your mom used to bring you to grandma's house every summer. And I would be there too. We used to play together a lot, you know?"
Paavna was quiet for a moment, trying to recall anything from when she was a child. But it was all a blur. She could picture running around, playing in the garden with other kids, but their faces, their names—everything was foggy.
"I don't remember..." she said, almost apologetically.
Kaarthi smiled faintly. "It's okay. You were just a kid, and I guess I stopped coming around after I joined school in Bangalore. But we used to play together every year until I was in seventh grade."
Paavna listened quietly. It was strange to think about herself as a little girl, running around without a care in the world. When did everything change? she wondered. But before she could dive into those thoughts, Kaarthi continued speaking, his tone a little more serious.
"You know," he said, "I don't want you to carry everything on your own. Don't try to be the strong one all the time. Things will get better. You don't have to hold everything in."
The words hit her harder than she expected. Paavna had always prided herself on being strong—never showing weakness, never letting anyone see her struggle. After her father passed away, she had built walls around herself. She couldn't afford to let anyone see how fragile she really was. But Kaarthi's words made her pause.
Do I really have to be strong all the time? she thought. Is it okay to feel weak sometimes?
She didn't know how to answer that, so instead, she just nodded.
"Everything will be okay soon," Kaarthi added softly. "Don't worry too much."
She forced a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thanks," she said quietly.
Kaarthi stood up, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. "I'll go now. Amma's waiting for me."
As he walked towards the door, Paavna watched him leave, feeling a strange mix of emotions she couldn't fully understand. Maybe it was because he had reminded her of a time she had long forgotten—when things were simpler, when she was just a kid who played without worrying about the weight of the world.
Just as Kaarthi left, Paavna heard a burst of laughter and shouting from outside. She turned her head to see her two younger brothers running out of the house, heading towards the street.
"akka, we're going to play cricket with Soori and the others!" one of them, Arvind, called out to her. His twin, Karan, grinned and waved at her.
"Okay, okay, don't get hurt!" Paavna shouted back with a playful smile, though she wasn't really paying attention to them. They had been like this ever since they were little—wild, free, and full of energy. She envied their ability to be carefree, to not have to think about anything except playing cricket and running around.
She watched them for a moment, then turned back to the kitchen. Amma was still there, sipping her tea silently, staring out the window. Paavna sighed and walked over to the stove to start boiling water for her own cup of tea.
The house was empty now—just her, Amma, and the quiet. The silence felt heavy, but Paavna didn't mind. It gave her the space she needed to think.
After a few minutes, Amma got up and started moving around in the kitchen, preparing something. Paavna couldn't really tell what it was. Her mind was too scattered.
A few moments later, amma said"Paavna, I'm going to rest for a bit. Could you please handle things here?" Amma asked without any emotion in her tone.
Paavna nodded. "Okay, Amma. Take care of yourself."
As Amma disappeared into her room, Paavna felt her heart tighten once again. She couldn't explain it, but every time her mother acted like this—like a hollow shell—it broke something inside Paavna. She didn't know how to fix it. She didn't know how to make Amma smile again, how to bring her back to life.
But Kaarthi's words still lingered in her mind. Everything will be okay soon.
Could it really be true? Could things really get better? Paavna didn't have the answers. She didn't even know where to begin.
The afternoon stretched on in silence. Paavna spent the next few hours calming herself down, trying to push away the heavy weight that had settled on her chest. She was determined not to cry—not in front of anyone, not even herself. She had to be strong. She had to.
But by evening, after all the tension, she couldn't stop herself from going into the kitchen to prepare dinner. She chopped vegetables, her hands moving almost mechanically. As she worked, her mind wandered again, back to her father, back to those carefree childhood days when she was oblivious to the harshness of life.
Could life really go back to being like that? she wondered. Could I be happy again?
The thought was too much to bear, and for the first time in days, Paavna allowed herself to cry—not in front of anyone, but quietly in the privacy of the kitchen.
Her brothers returned home later, laughing and chatting about their game. They didn't notice anything was wrong. They never did.
And Paavna let them keep their carefree innocence, while she tried to make sense of everything—her past, her present, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, things would get better.