Believe It Or Not?!
By Karteeka Tanmayi
Is it even possible to live in India and not be superstitious?
Especially, when every single person you know is, in one way or another, superstitious as well?
“Ma, I’m leaving,” she says as she hurries out the door of her parents’ house, slipping into her sandals. Big day for her, at work and personal life, and yet she manages to mess it up by sleeping in.
“Wait!” her mother calls out to her all the way from the kitchen, and Saanvi halts, adjusting the straps of her sandals and clicking her tongue in annoyance.
“I’m late already, what is it now?” she yells back as she hears her mother’s anklets jingle toward her.
“How is it my fault? I told you to go to bed early but it was solely your decision to stay up all night working,” her mother berates her while walking over. Saanvi isn’t in the mood to get into another argument with her mother about how she’s most productive at night.
When Sannvi turns around to face her mother, her already sour expression intensifies, “seriously?” she questions as her mother pushes a spoonful of curd against her lips, prying them open. Saanvi unwittingly swallows and her mother finally seems at peace.
“This is for good luck! You have a big presentation due today!” Her mom tells her, unconsciously setting Saanvi’s hair and adjusting the collar of her kurta.
Saanvi exhales and bites back a snarky remark about how a spoon of curd isn’t going to determine her performance at the office.
“Okay, bye, I’m late,” she presses a kiss to her Mom’s cheek, nonetheless.
“Bye, Papa!” she yells, and he peeks his head out of the bathroom, face covered in shaving cream. He waves in acknowledgment and Saanvi turns to leave when—
Achoo!
She sneezes.
And she already knows what’s coming.
“Don’t leave the house right after a sneeze!” her dad shouts from the washroom and she groans.
—
Saanvi has more than a thing or two to say about superstitions.
She’s always been practical, which is surprising because she comes from a long line of super-religious folks. She’s not an atheist, don’t get her wrong. She doesn’t mind the numerous poojas and rituals her parents drag her to, either. However, it's the superstitions she cannot stand.
Why?
She doesn’t like micro-management.
No one likes being micromanaged, do they?
Superstitions micro-manage the most trivial parts of one’s life.
Don't walk under a ladder. Don't cut your nails after sunset. Don't start something right after a sneeze.
It's a whole bunch of "Don'ts" that Saanvi dislikes.
She simply doesn’t understand superstitions.
“And that is…” Saanvi changes the slide with her remote, “the end of my presentation,” she smiles confidently at her colleagues and superiors seated in front of her, who begin to clap, much to Saanvi’s delight. Her nerves begin to settle, knowing her presentation is a success. She needs to get home and tell mom it pays off to work all night sometimes.
After Saanvi’s Boss says the ending ments, the meeting is dismissed. Saanvi walks out first, followed by Aasha, who pounces onto her from behind, “San! You killed it! Next year's promotion, pakka!” she says and Saanvi smiles softly, “You think so?”
Aasha’s energy compliments Saanvi’s rather reserved demeanor well.
Aasha grins, “I know so!”
Aasha’s smile is contagious, and Saanvi ends up smiling brightly.
“Anyway, I have to go home early,” Saanvi pulls away from Aasha, walking to her cubicle. Aasha follows her, “Early? Why?” she questions, as Saanvi begins to gather her belongings, “I’m uh, taking Karan to meet my parents,” she says.
“Who’s Karan?” Preeti’s head pops up from the other cubicle, a colleague. Aasha huffs out a breath as she turns to Preeti, and Saanvi already knows what's coming.
“Her boyfriend,” Aasha says, gesturing to Saanvi. Preeti’s eyes widen, “Saanvi has a boyfriend?!”
“You can't believe it either, right?” Aasha asks and Saanvi clicks her tongue, “Is it that hard to believe I have a life outside work?!” she hisses. Preeti winces and retreats back into her cubicle.
Aasha rolls her eyes, “No, I just didn't want to believe he’s real because I've never seen him,” she crosses her arms. Saanvi lets out a frustrated exhale, “Well, I have news. He’s real and he's going to meet my parents tomorrow, okay?” Aasha’s expression softens, “Hey, I'm just looking out for you, okay? There’s a serial killer going around, you know that, right?”
She understands why Aasha feels so. But she doesn't know how to reassure Aasha. In her heart, though, Saanvi is sure about Karan.
Karan is….
There's no easy way to say this.
He is Saanvi’s boyfriend.
She wants him to meet her parents.
Saanvi’s been so cooped up with her work and wanting to rise through the ranks that she hasn't been able to make time for her personal life. When she's not working, she's sleeping. When she's not sleeping, she's working. And thanks to this, no one has shown interest in dating her. After all, a career-oriented woman is hardly a catch in India.
But Karan…
Saanvi’s heart somersaults in her chest at the thought of him.
Karan is different. They met by accident 2 months ago, and he's shown her affection like no guy has before. Saanvi has grown to like him immensely and had recently found out that Karan’s feelings for her match her intensity. They were under the stars, walking down the noisy streets of Hyderabad but the hustle-bustle didn't matter when Karan turned to Saanvi and confessed his love for her.
And since then, they've established that what they have is rather special, Saanvi has decided it's time he met her family. Marriage is a far cry for now, but Saanvi isn't averse to the idea of marrying Karan in the future.
Saanvi resists the urge to roll her eyes, “He’s not a serial killer, that I can assure you,”
From the look on her face, Aasha doesn't seem convinced. Saanvi sighs, patting Aasha’s shoulders, “look, I know you're worried. I'll take you to meet him on Monday, alright?”
At that, Aasha’s expression softens. She exhales her worries and smiles at Saanvi, “Sure?”
Saanvi smiles, “Sure,”
Aasha pulls her into a warm hug, “Best of luck, okay?!” she says and Saanvi chuckles, “Thanks.”
“Hold on,” Aasha pulls away and grabs the tail of her pony, and spins it around Saanvi’s face, “Nazar na lage tujhe,” she says. Saanvi groans, “I told you not to do that!” she says, taking her purse. Aasha shrugs, “You have your beliefs, I have mine,”
Saanvi exhales and turns to leave, “See you.” she says.
“Tell me how it goes! Keep me updated.”
And with that, she makes her way back to her parent’s house.
—
“Is he Hindu?” is the first question her mom asks.
Saanvi exhales.
“Is he rich?” her dad asks and Saanvi’s exhaustion intensifies. But she swallows her frustration and nods, “Yes,” she tells her Mom, and then turns to her Dad, “He can sustain himself,”
The hesitation on her mom’s face and the disappointment on her father’s face don't disappear. Saanvi didn't expect anything else, anyway.
“Say something,” she asks softly, and her parents glance at each other nervously. Her mom clears her throat, “Sanu, this is a little too sudden for us…” and her dad nods, agreeing. Saanvi purses her lips, “Why don't you guys meet him and give him a chance?”
Saanvi’s parents are religious, but they aren't as conservative as one might expect them to be. They've given Saanvi the freedom she’s needed all her life, as long as she didn't get herself into trouble. She doesn't expect them to welcome Karan with open arms, but at the same time, she doesn't want to take them by surprise. That’s why she wants them to meet him.
Saanvi swallows thickly, “I know, Ma. But I just want you guys to meet him. Please?” she pleads softly, taking their hands in hers. Her mom and dad’s expressions soften. They just can't resist their daughter’s charm. Saanvi uses this superpower sparingly, knowing repeated use renders it useless. All she has to do is lower her voice and look at them like she's a puppy, stranded in rain.
They exhale in unison and her father smiles, patting Saanvi’s head, “Alright, bring him over,” he says and Saanvi’s lips pull into a wide grin. She leaps forth and tackles her parents in a tight hug, “I love you both!”
Her mother giggles and Saanvi pulls away, “I'll bring him over tomorrow!” she suggests and her mother gasps dramatically, “No!” she says, startling Saanvi, “What? Why not?!”
She was on board a second ago!
Her mom shakes her head, “Shastri Ji said tomorrow is an inauspicious day!”
…
Saanvi shouldn't have expected anything else.
“I'm not doing this with you again,” Saanvi says, and her mom is about to protest when Saket walks in, “Ma! I gave Varun Didi’s old chair–” he halts when he sees Saanvi in the room
“You what?” Saanvi raises a brow, arms crossed. But it doesn't faze Saket, unbothered by the death glare Saanvi throws his way.
“I gave your old chair to Varun to sit on, duh,” he says and turns around, walking away. Saanvi follows him, “Why?” she asks as they climb up the stairs.
“Why not?” Saket replies as any brother would.
Saanvi groans as they walk down the hallway to Saket’s room, “I've told you multiple times already. Anyone that sits on it, falls down. It's happened every single time!” She says and Saket rolls his eyes.
“You're being silly. I thought you hated superstitions,” Saket says and Saanvi scoffs, “This isn't a superstition. It's a fact,”
“Whatever,” Saket says as they enter his room when–
THUD!
Saket’s friend, Varun, is on the floor, looking bewildered and rather confused, with the chair tipped over on its side.
“What happened?” Mom yells from downstairs and Saanvi exhales as Saket rushes to help Varun.
“Varun fell off the chair,” she replies, a smug smirk building on her face.
“Told you so,” Saanvi says, lifting the chair and Saket glares at her, “Why are you here anyway? You have your own apartment to live in,” he says, for the lack of a more appropriate comeback to throw her way in front of an audience.
Saanvi shrugs, “No reason. Also, roll this chair into the storage. My boyfriend’s coming over tomorrow,” she says as her phone buzzes.
And speak of the devil– it’s Karan.
She smiles as she opens the chatbox, “Saket, don't forget,” she says and he groans, “Do it yourself!” he hisses but she strides out of there, knowing her little brother will oblige anyway.
Karan <3
Hey, where are you? We still on for tomorrow?
There’s one small problem. Just like she didn't tell her parents till the end, she didn't tell Karan either that she wants him to meet her parents.
You
Hey! A slight change of plans– I want you to meet my parents tomorrow. Is that okay?
Karan <3
What? Why so suddenly?
I thought we could discuss the Goa trip we were planning.
You
Sorry! I know I said that but wouldn't it be best if you met them once? They'd also feel comfortable letting me go to Goa with you if they like you. I hate lying to them about things like this. Please…..
Karan <3
Don't be sorry! I understand perfectly :) Let's meet them and I'll convince them to let me take their daughter away on a small trip, hehe.
You
You're the best! I'll text you the address!! Love you <3
Karan <3
Love you, too <3
Saket scoffs at the wide grin plastered on Saanvi’s face, “Is that your serial killer boyfriend?” he asks, grabbing Saanvi’s attention. She frowns, offended, and then gasps, “How do you know about my serial killer boyf– he's not a serial killer!” she defends and Saket huffs, settling down beside Varun and putting on his headset for his game, “How do you know he’s not a serial killer? There’s one on the loose, isn't there? Don't you know his M.O? He preys on young, lonely women. Befriends them, lures them into his love trap, and BAM!” Saket yells and Saanvi flinches, immersed in his story.
“Bam, what?” she asks cautiously, and Saket grins, “He’s a serial killer, Didi. You can guess what happens next,”
Saanvi swallows nervously, “You watch too many true crime shows. Karan is not a serial killer!”
Saket shrugs, “So why doesn't he like being photographed? Have you ever been to his Office?”
Saanvi narrows his eyes, “Have you been talking to Aasha?”
Saket smirks, “Sometimes. She gives me tea about your love life–which according to her, is suspicious,”
Saanvi groans in frustration and storms out of her brother’s room. She walks down the stairs and straight to the exit, grabbing her things on the way, mumbling under her breath, “I swear, the real enemies in my life are my own family and friends,”
She's about to exit when–
“Achoo!”
Damn it.
“Wait for a minute and leave!” Her dad yells from inside.
Saanvi exhales in annoyance.
—
“Are you Hindu?” is the first question Saanvi’s mom asks when Saanvi, Karan, and her parents sit down to talk. Saanvi groans inwardly but stops the urge to hiss at her mom.
Karan, though taken aback, puts on a polite smile and nods, “Yes, aunty,”
Saanvi sighs. It's likely that Karan’s temperament is the best for her parent’s invasive and unnecessary questioning. If Saanvi were being questioned like this, she’d probably raise hell.
“Ma, don't you want to ask Karan something else? Something more relevant and less…invasive?” she shoots a pointed glare at her Mom and the latter sighs. She nudges Saanvi’s dad, and he clears his throat, “Right, Karan, where do you work?”
“I’m a traveling salesman for pharmaceutical products, Uncle. Here’s my card,” Karan hands Saanvi’s Dad a business card. Saanvi studies her Dad’s face, and picks up on the corner of his lips quirking up in delight, “Good, that's good,” he says, shoving the card into his pocket, “When did you two meet?”
Karan glances at Saanvi and smiles, taking her hand, “A couple of months ago. She's the most beautiful person I've ever met,” he smiles and Saanvi’s gut fills with butterflies, “It was easy to fall in love with her,”
Oh, Karan. There's something magical about the way he talks, and his voice, it's to die for. How did Saanvi get so lucky?
“Love? After a few months? That's impossible,” her mom tears through the sweet moment they were having. Saanvi turns to her Mother with a sour expression, “Ma, please,”
Her Mother sighs, “Saanvi, don't be unreasonable. I'm trying to look out for you. I know nothing about this boy you're dating. You can't possibly expect us to accept him so easily,”
“But–”
“Saanvi–” Karan interjects, stroking the back of her hand, “your mother is right to worry. Don't fight her on this, hm?”
Saanvi swallows her rage and glances at her mother, who seems slightly impressed by Karan’s agreement with her.
“Right, Karan? She's quick to anger,” her mother chimes in again, “I don't know how you put up with her temperament,”
Karan bursts out laughing, and so does her mother. Saanvi curbs her frustration and puts on a brave smile. It seems her Mother and boyfriend have decided to bond over the fact that Saanvi can be quite a pain in the rear, at times. Saanvi succeeded in making a good impression of her boyfriend, but at what cost? It's worth it, though.
Saanvi smiles.
“Beta, did you know? She doesn't let me remove her nazar?”
It's amazing how her mom always manages to steer conversations in this direction.
“It's not that big of a deal, Ma,” Saanvi says but Karan shakes his head, turning to Saanvi, “Hey, their beliefs are theirs. Doesn't hurt to indulge them once in a while, right?”
Saanvi purses her lips. He's right. It wouldn't hurt. It's just that her Mom can go overboard with it often.
“She listens to you well,” Her dad chimes in, “What spell have you cast on her?”
Karan exhales softly, “Saanvi listens well when the other party is willing to hear her side of the story. Between us, it's mutual,”
If cupid was real, he’d be stabbing Saanvi with arrows right about now. She falls deeper and deeper in love with Karan each minute.
Her parents exchange a glance and smile, turning to Karan, “Karan, would you like to stay for lunch?”
And that's how Saanvi knows her parents have more or less accepted Karan.
“I would love to, Aunty,” Karan says, “but first, can I freshen up?”
“Of course! Saanvi, take him to your bathroom upstairs,” Her mom says and Saanvi nods, taking Karan’s hand, “Let's go,”
Once out of their parent's sight, Saanvi releases the breath she had been holding, softly squeezing Karan’s hand, “I think you've done it. You've convinced them,” she says and he smiles.
“Im glad,” he says, walking up the stairs to her room, “maybe in a few days I can convince them to let me take you on that trip,” he nudges her shoulder. Saanvi blushes, “I think they'll agree,” she says as they enter her old room.
Karan leans and presses a kiss against her forehead and Saanvi giggles.
“Hold on, I'll check if the bathroom is, y'know, clean,” she says and turns to walk to her bathroom, turning on the light inside.
“So, when do you want to go to Goa?” Karan asks from the bedroom and Saanvi hums, “In two weeks?” once she checks everything is alright, she walks back into her bedroom and–
She gasps when she finds Karan sitting on her old swivel chair, leaning back onto it. She's about to alert Karan about the danger of sitting on it–rather, of falling off it but….
Karan doesn't fall.
He doesn't fall, like all the otters that have sat on it in the past.
“Wow, this is super comfortable,” he says, rotating in place without a worry in the world.
“It…it is…” Saanvi’s voice falters, and Karan looks up at her with concern, “Is something wrong?” he asks.
She shakes off her worrisome expression and smiles, “No. Nothing,”
“Alright,” he says, standing up. He presses a kiss to her forehead and walks past her to go into the bathroom.
And Saanvi is left with a bitter taste in her mouth.
—
When Saanvi was 15, her father bought her a Sviwel chair for her. She used to study for long hours so it was best suited for her comfort.
It's in perfectly good condition even after all these years, with not much wear and tear. There is one thing peculiar about it though.
Every person that has sat on it for the first time has fallen. It's as if the chair decides it doesn't want to be sat on. It happened to Saanvi, Saket, their parents, and even all of Saanvi's friends. Every time they sit on it, it magically tips and people fall over. What's even more mind-boggling is that it only ever happens once. You fall once and don't fall ever again, no matter how outrageous your posture on the chair is.
Saanvi doesn't believe in superstitions, everyone knows that. She likes to think there is a scientific explanation for everything, and she figured that after falling once, the person learns how to sit on it, how to be careful, and over time adjusts to it. Saanvi’s tested it, it works.
So, why didnt Karan fall?
Saanvi toys with her dessert lost in thought.
“Sanu, you okay?” her dad’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and she looks up at the concerned faces of her parents and Karan. Her heart sinks and she looks back down at her bowl of Gulaab Jamun, “It's nothing,” she dismisses. Thankfully, her parents and Karan buy it and go back to chit-chatting.
Saanvi swallows, unable to suppress the ugly feeling brewing within her.
Karan didnt fall.
That damned chair has been tossing people left, right, and center all its life and suddenly it decides not to? Why? What's different this time?
From the corner of her eye, she sees Saket walk in through the front door, passing the dining room to go straight up to his room, as quickly as possible to avoid human interaction, as always. But he can't escape Saanvi’s hawk-like gaze.
When her eyes meet Saket’s as he walks up the stairs, her mind is flooded with their conversation from yesterday.
A guy going around befriending young, lonely women, luring them into his trap, and brutally murdering them—
Saanvi springs to her feet, “Excuse me,” she says and without sparing Karan and her parents a glance leaves the dining room to follow her brother upstairs.
“He didn't fall.” is the first thing she says when she enters the room behind Saket, spooking him, “Next time, knock first?” he replies and she shakes her head, “He didn't fall, Saket,” she repeats and he finally turns to her with a frustrated sigh, “Who didn't fall?”
“Karan,” Saanvi begins, her nerves on fire as she recalls the moment, “He sat on my old chair and didn't fall,”
At that, Saket’s eyes widen, “He didn't?”
Saanvi chuckles nervously, “You get why that freaks me out, right?”
Saket gulps, “Didi, don't think too much into it. You told me you don't believe in superstitions–”
“It's not a superstition, Saki!” she's adamant, rightly so, because she's spooked, “It's….he didn't fall. What's so different about him?”
Saket sighs, “Didi, maybe it's because he's a good person? I don't know,” he rolls his eyes.
“So everyone that has sat on the chair before him is not? You're telling me that Suresh Uncle who worked his entire life tirelessly for the cause of sick animals is a bad person because he fell off the chair?”
Saket seems stumped– unable to refute that.
“So what? You're saying Karan is a bad person?” Saket says and Sasanvi takes a deep breath, “I-I’m not saying anything I—” she stutters, running her hands through her hair, “it's because of you– you put all these ideas about serial killers in my mind!”
Saket laughs, “Wow, you're throwing this on me?”
Saanvi clicks her tongue, “Yes! All that talk about him being a serial killer is— it's freaking me out!”
Saket swallows, “Look, Didi, I only said that to tease you, okay? I didn't expect you to take it seriously?”
“H-How can I not?” her voice falters, “I-I’ve never been to his Office, I've never met his friends, and I haven't even ever seen him working. He hates being photographed, and he….he's too good to be true,”
Was it all a lie? Is Karan not Karan? Is he trapping Saanvi? Is that why he wants to take her to Goa? To kill her? Did they even meet by accident? Was it planned? Did he plan it?
“Didi, get a hold of yourself! Don't let your imagination run amok!” Saket says, and Saanvi’s about to reply when a voice calls her from downstairs.
“Saanvi, where are you? Karan is leaving!” her mother calls and silence befalls Saanvi and Saket.
“Coming,” Saanvi replies weakly and stands up, walking out.
“Didi….” Saket watches her walk down the stairs, clueless about how he can comfort her.
“It was nice to meet you, Aunty. Thank you for the food,” Karan says, bending and touching Saanvi’s parents’ feet. They smile, overwhelmed by emotion.
“Next time, I'll make some biryani for you, hm?” Saanvi’s mom says.
They exchange smiles and Karan takes Saanvi’s hand. She flinches, hand retreating to her side. Karan frowns but doesn't think much of it.
“I'll text you, hm?” he pats Saanvi’s shoulder. She smiles uncomfortably, “Yeah,”
With that, Karan takes his leave.
Once gone, Saanvi exhales, curbing the fear brewing in her gut.
“Karan, what a gem of a person!” Saanvi’s dad says, delighted as he walks to the couch. Saanvi purses her lips, glancing at Saket in the distance.
“Invite him over again soon, hm?” her mom pats her cheek, “He's wonderful, Sanu. You made the right choice,” she smiles.
Saanvi swallows, goosebumps erupting on her skin.
Now what?
—
Karan <3
Hey! I think your parents love me! Saanvi?
Hey, you there?
I miss you :(
Is everything okay back home?
Call me back soon.
Saanvi doesn't open the chatbox and reads the messages from her notifications. She sighs, tossing her phone to the side. These past two days haven't been easy. Ghosting Karan and reading up on that Serial killer has been mentally taxing. She could very well stop panicking, and stop thinking too much about it. It's just a chair. Nothing more, nothing less. She could do what she does with all these superstitions– move on from them, or ignore them. But this particular one– she can't seem to let go of.
Saanvi stares at the ceiling of her room, lost in thought when Saket appears in her vision, leaning over her face, looking down, “Mom’s been calling you down to eat lunch for ages now,” he informs.
With a sigh, Saanvi turns over on her side.
“I read up on that serial killer,” she says dryly, and Saket grunts, “Jeez,”
Saanvi sits up, her limbs cracking and throat closed up, “He's a cold-blooded psychopath. He dates women, lures them into being alone with him, and kills them, dumping their bodies in water bodies to remove most of the evidence that incriminates him. He's been operating in Hyderabad for a few months now,”
Saket grabs her hand and helps her stand up from the bed, “You're freaking out because of that silly chair, Didi. That doesn't mean anything,” he reassures her as he guides her down the stairs and into the dining hall where her parents are seated.
Her Dad is watching the news, and her mom smiles when she notices Saanvi’s presence, “Sanu, I made your favorites today. Come,” she says but Saanvi doesn't even crack a smile at her. She plops into her seat, mind numb with thoughts.
Her mother sighs, taking a seat, “Sanu, all okay?” she asks.
It's a universal rule that no matter how strong your willpower to keep your emotions at bay is, the moment your mom asks what's wrong, tears are bound to flow.
A tear trickles down Saanvi’s eye, taking her family aback, even her Dad, who’d lost interest in the news.
“What happened?” her mom asks, standing up to walk around the table and pull Saanvi into a warm hug. Saanvi shakes her head, wiping her tears. The storm stirring in her heart is beginning to break out.
She needs to decide between believing in her boyfriend or a creaky old chair.
Her mom turns to Saket for help, and the latter groans, “Karan sat on her old chair and didn't fall down. Now she's having second thoughts,” he says, pointing at the Swivel chair by the wall. Saanvi had brought it down to roll it over into storage to keep her mind off it.
Saanvi already knows what her parents are going to say.
They're going to go with the chair– they are superstitious, after all. Karan broke the norm– there must definitely be something wrong with him.
She’s mentally preparing herself to let go of Karan.
“Sanu, do you like Karan?” her mom asks and Saanvi nods, “Yes,”
“Do you think he’s a good man?” she asks and Saanvi nods again, “He treats me like I'm the most precious thing in the world,”
Her Mom smiles, “Then why are you crying?”
Saanvi’s breath hitches, “Because—that chair–he—” she points at the chair, unable to make sense of the turmoil in her heart, “Why didn't he fall off that chair, ma? Everyone does, but he didn't and–”
Her mother exhales, “Sanu, I know your father and I can be quite religious and superstitious, and I’m sure that despite your resistance, we've influenced you in some way. Which is why your chair’s knack to topple people over has become a sort of superstition for you,”
Saanvi can't disagree with that. It is what it is.
A superstition of sorts.
Her mother continues, “I understand why you're panicking. But we’ve learned a great deal from you as well, you know? You've made us a little more rational in our approach. To not follow anything blindly, hm?”
Saanvi looks up at her, sniffling. Her mother chuckles, wiping her tears, “So, what is stopping you from doing that? If you have a good feeling about him, you go ahead with him. If not, you move on. It's your decision to make, not the chair’s,”
Saanvi giggles at that, her heart calming down.
“So, what's your decision?” her mom asks and Sasanvi inhales deeply, “I….I want to be with him,”
And as if on cue, her Dad speaks up, “Oh, that serial killer was caught,” he says casually, looking at the TV. Saanvi and Saket whip their heads in that direction, watching a man be taken away by the police….a strange, unknown man. Not…not Karan! It's not Karan! In the back of her mind, Saanvi knew she was being unreasonable– that she was overthinking but she loves that she has confirmation now! Closure.
Saanvi and Saket look at each other, and Saanvi smiles widely, “I have to go see Karan!” she announces, springing up to her feet, a cheerful grin plastered on her face.
Saket and her mom smile at her as she grabs her phone on her way out of the door. She misses him, and she wants to see him. And just as she’s about to leave.
“Achoo!”
Why can't she catch a break?!
“Saanvi,” her dad calls from inside, and Saanvi groans, “Papa! I've decided not to listen to these superstitions! I'm leaving!” she announces but her father calls after her again.
“Saanvi, come back here and see this!” he calls, voice firm and she drags her feet back inside, a little terrified by the urgency in her Dad’s voice.
She walks back in, and first notices the mortified expressions on her family’s faces. And then, turns to the TV, confused.
And then, she realizes.
BREAKING NEWS : 14 Women Rescued From Human Trafficking Racket In Hyderabad, 5 Men Arrested.
Saanvi watches in horror as the police escort the 5 arrested men out of a warehouse—one among them being….Karan.
The entire family freezes, their faces mortified as they see the police rescuing women, and shoving those men into the police jeeps, Karan– or whatever his name is–among them.
Deathly silence befalls them – their skins crawl with fear as they process this.
And then, they all turn to the Swivel chair nestled cozily in the corner, staring at it in disbelief.
And for a moment, it looks like its smiling at Saanvi, as if saying,
‘I told you so,’
By Karteeka Tanmayi
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