The tale of the rose petal and pistachio modak

They walked into the door and with them walked in the silence. It was as conspicuous as a fly in a cup of tea. It floated around them, forcing them to notice it—together with the people surrounding them. It was ugly and in the face. All she wanted was for it to end. All he wanted was to torment her and make it last. But one step into the house and she gasped while his eyes gave away the shock. Their 11-year old daughter was sitting by the window sill, with a paper-made origami ganpati in front of her. The parents looked at her with awe and embarrassment as she joined her hands, oblivious to their presence and prayed to the paper-God. “Please make them talk.” They smiled at her and she clutched his hand. He looked at her with raised eyebrows but then his expressions softened and he interlocked his fingers with hers. Realising that she was being watched, she turned around to see her parents standing hand in hand. She ran towards them with a plate of rose petal modaks. Life seemed sweeter with just a bite. So they sat all night playing cards and binging on the festivities. But then as the dawn approached and they retired to the bedroom once again…the silence took over.

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