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threatening spilt over, but Reema
made no attempt to wipe them away. She just stood winding the corner of her dupatta round and round her little finger. “I told him there was no future for us, to
keep away from the store, from me. But he keeps coming to see me. What can I
do, Di?”
    “Is he troubling you then?” Mira put her arm around her and
led her back to the bed where she had been sitting just minutes before.
    “Troubling? Oh no!”
    “Then?”
    “Di, he talks of marriage, but how can that ever happen? You
know how rich his family is. We are nowhere near them in status. His family
will never accept me. This relationship is doomed, right from the start. That’s
why I told him to stop coming to see me in the store.”
    “He comes every day?”
    “Yes,” said Reema shyly, “then he waits till my shift is
done and brings me home.”
    “Every day?” A note of incredulity laced Mira’s voice.
    Reema nodded. Then she looked up as a thought struck her.
“But how do you know, Di? Who told you?”
    “I’ll tell you. But first tell me, do you also love him?”
    “Love? I don’t know whether this is love, Di, but I feel
happy when I’m with him. And I miss being with him on my off days. He makes me
laugh.”
    “Do you want to marry him?”
    Reema contemplated the question for a minute. “It can’t be,
Di. We live in different worlds. Ma-Ba… would be shocked.”
    “You leave all that to me,” said Mira, who had noticed the
tiny slip. It was still difficult to come to terms with their father’s sudden
death. “Just tell me—do you love Tarun Dewan?” Reema nodded, her eyes glued to
the floor. Mira sighed in vexation. Drat the man—he was always right.
    A knock sounded on the door. It was Renu Mausi. “Oh Mira,
you’re home early? Reema beta , I wanted you to run down to the kirana store and get me a few things.”
    “I’ll go, Mausi,” said Mira quickly. She grabbed her bag and
let herself out of the flat. As she exited the building, she took out her
mobile and dialed a number.
    “Yes?” Ranbir’s voice resounded authoritatively.
    “It’s me,” stammered Mira. Did he have to sound so
impatient?
    “I could see that from my phone, Mira. Well?”
    “It’s true,” she said in a rush. “What you said…about…umm,
you know.”
    “So Reema has told you that I was right about their affair.”
    “It isn’t an affair,” said Mira, embarrassment dispelled by
a cloud of indignation. “He meets her at the store and brings her home. It’s
nothing as sordid as an affair. But, yes, they are in love.”
    “Tell her to come to Dewan Kutir tomorrow morning.” Ranbir
hung up.
    Mira looked at her own mobile instrument resentfully. The
man was too much—so peremptory, so used to people jumping at a snap of his
finger. How was Reema to get to Dewan Kutir? Whom was she to ask for there?
What was she going to say who had sent her? There was no way around it. She
would have to go with her.
     
    ***
     
    Mira and Reema stood outside the front door of Dewan Kutir,
looking at each other. They’d had a bit of a time getting past the guard at the
gate. Typically, thought Mira, Ranbir hadn’t thought to tell him they were
expected.
    “Don’t worry,” she said now, looking at her sister’s tense
face. “You just have to show yourself to be willing to run around and help Mrs.
Dewan with whatever she needs done.”
    “I don’t think I can face…” whispered Reema.
    “Don’t be a goose!” said Mira impatiently. Then her voice
softened, “Remember, this is Ranbir’s idea. He’s on your side. All you have to
do is get through this initial interview with his Dadi. And, after all, she’s
Tarun’s Dadi, too. Just think of this as a practice run for when you actually
marry Tarun. Now, shall I ring the bell?”
    A dignified looking woman opened the door. “Yes?” she
enquired, looking at them.
    “We were told you needed someone to help Mrs. Dewan,” said
Mira quickly.
    “Who sent you?” asked