Page 166 of The Redemption
I give him a nod, and that’s when I spot Siya. She’s standing near the garden pathway, with her phone pressed to her ear. I can hear her talking to Meher.
I already know the family has been in constant touch with her ever since Baba, Meher, and Ayaan returned to Mumbai.
Siya has Baba’s number now. The same number I once had no intention of giving her. Not that she calls them every day. But the family has already accepted her as one of their own. And surprisingly, Siya hasn’t pushed them away.
I continue listening to Haider, though my attention remains divided. I overhear her telling Meher that we’ll be leaving for Mumbai in two days. Then comes the discussion about clothes. I almost smile.
Women.
No matter what world they come from, some things never change. Siya is asking what she should wear for the baby shower. Knowing Meher, she’s probably refusing to reveal anything. Simran, Meher’s sister-in-law and Vishnu’s wife, has apparently designed the outfits for all the women in the family. Andprobably the men too. Not that I’m wearing what they have chosen for me.
By the time the call ends, there’s still a small smile on her face. And judging by that smile, she’s looking forward to this baby shower almost as much as I am.
A moment later, the front door opens, and her mother steps out carrying a puja thali. She walks over to Siya and offers her a laddoo as prasad. Just like every other day, I don’t expect the prasad to be offered to me.
Every morning, I watch Siya’s mother perform her prayers, and every morning, she gives the prasad to Siya. And every morning, I remain exactly where I belong… outside that small circle. Assuming nothing will be different today, Haider and I continue discussing security arrangements that need to be in place during my absence from RK Estate.
“You are not letting me come with you to Mumbai,” Haider exhales slowly. “I still don’t like the idea.”
I know he doesn’t. For years, Haider has been right next to me like a shadow. But this time, I’m not taking him with me.
“Someone needs to stay back here, Haider,” I reply. “And you know I don’t trust anyone else. If both of us leave, we’re inviting trouble here. That’s why you need to be here.”
“And if something happens in Mumbai? You know the entire underworld is currently looking for you, Raghav. They’re all waiting for that one opportunity to strike.”
I look at him flatly. “Then God help the fool who tries.” I pat his arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
That finally earns a reluctant nod from him. We are still discussing other matters when Siya’s mother suddenly stops beside us. Our conversation dies instantly as she extends the puja thali towards me. For a moment, I’m too surprised to react. The woman who can barely tolerate my presence is offering me prasad?
Yet my hand moves automatically.The left one.
She immediately frowns and smacks my arm. “Bring forward your right hand,” she says.
I freeze.
Did she just hit me? Before I can correct myself, she reaches forward, catches my wrist, and places the laddoo into my right palm herself.
“Prasad is always taken with the right hand. Remember that from now.”
That’s all she says before turning to Haider and offering him the prasad too.
“Thank you,” he says respectfully, taking it with the right hand.Lesson learnt.
For several seconds after she walks away, I simply stare at the laddoo resting in my palm. I don’t know why such a small gesture affects me so much. Maybe because I never expected her to do this for me. Or maybe because I know exactly how difficult that step must have been for her. To slowly try to bridge the gap between us.
I instinctively glance at Siya, who is watching her mother with a soft, surprised smile, as if she hadn’t expected that gesture either. But there’s no disapproval in her eyes, which is a big change. Our eyes meet for a brief second before Siya follows her mother back towards the villa.
Haider gives me a nod and leaves soon after. Once he’s gone, I look down at the laddoo again.It’s ridiculous.For a man who has survived shootouts, betrayals, wars, and countless assassination attempts, it’s surprising that a small piece of prasad from Siya’s mother could feel so significant.
As soon as I take a bite, the sweetness settles on my tongue. It’s homemade. For the first time in years, it tastes like something I never really had…home.
Finishing the last bite, I head back inside the villa.
SIYA
I can’t get over the look on Raghav’s face when Mom placed that laddoo in his palm. He looked like a man who had just received something he didn’t even realise he had been craving.
A mother’s affection.
