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me—although she absorbed my sorrow, she never shared her own with me. I always thought—hoped, even—that she might find another Baji to inject our lives once more with energy. But to search, you need time, which she didn’t have. Eventually, she had to leave me to my own devices, simply to earn enough for us to eat. By then, I’d learnt to lose myself in my studies, use my reclusion more productively.”
    “She sounds like she was very strong.”
    “She became that way—fierce, even. I suppose she had to harden herself. She was ferociously determined I be happy in life. And quite ruthless with anyone she considered out to hurt me.”
    “Do you suppose she would have liked me?”
    “Yes, I think so.”
    “My mother likes you too.” It wasn’t quite the symmetrical response, and the awkwardness of articulating it made me blush.
    Karun stared silently at the clouds, and I wondered if I had been too forward. When he spoke, he did so haltingly. “I’ve always envied people who know exactly what they want. I sometimes wonder if I could ever be as sure as they seem. If I could experience the feelings I’m supposed to with the same intensity. My mother knew this doubt in me—that’s why she kept urging me to search for a lasting anchor in life. I think she worried that after her, I’d simply drift around, vainly trying to re-create some past ideal.”
    My heart started racing. Did his words hold the hint of a hidden invitation? An allusion to the very topic I had been so apprehensive about broaching? I felt as if nearing the conclusion of some game of nerves, like threading the loop over the wire, I had just a short way left to go without making a mistake.
    “It’s been over three years since she died—two more than the year she gave me to mourn her. Every night, I can almost hear her whispering into my ear, ‘Settle down now, forget the old. Marry, have a child, build a new trinity.’ I thought it would be a simple matter, but in truth, I haven’t been able to follow through. Even though I’ve been wanting, even though I’ve been lonely. Perhaps it’s a matter of confidence, of being sure one can fulfill the expectations from the other side. Do you know what I mean?”
    I didn’t. Was he letting me know, gently, of his disinterest? Declining politely before I posed the question? “Don’t you want to get married?” I found myself asking, more plainly than I would have liked. Then, when Karun didn’t reply, I added, “I do.”
    “I know.”
    “But you don’t want to,” I murmured, completing the thought for him. A huge weight seemed to lift from me as I said this. The loop had touched the wire, the buzzer had gone off to announce I had lost. The suspense was over, I could breathe in the monsoon air freely.
    “It’s not that I don’t. There’s nothing I’d like better than to belong again, be part of my own family. I think I just worry too much about not knowing how things might turn out. Sometimes when you get close to someone, they end up caring for you differently. All the certainty people have—that you have—I wish I could feel the same.”
    Was he trying to caution me about something? I couldn’t quite decipher his warning. “One is never completely sure, of course, but one has to try.”
    Here was my opportunity, I knew, to follow up on Uma’s advice. I closed my eyes and brought my face to his, guided only by the thought of his lips. When I neared enough to sense his breath, I pressed my mouth quickly to his. Then I withdrew noiselessly, afraid of the bird-like sound my parents made on the rare occasions they kissed. I opened my eyes, but didn’t allow my gaze to climb too high up Karun’s face.
    Did my adventurousness put the onus on him to reciprocate? Did he really want to kiss me back, or did he feel obliged, had I embarrassed him into it? I kept my attention focused on the line that first drew me in. It darkened in the middle, then separated in two, then blurred as his