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Diya grabbed my hand before I could go out.
“Look, I don’t even know how to boil an egg. I need detailed instructions and a lot of handholding, not some orders thrown at me from a window,” she said desperately.
“I’ve got this, Diya. And I will give you step-by-step instructions, don’t worry,” I promised hastily and got out of the kitchen before Dadi Sa saw me.
Diya muttered under her breath until she saw me outside the window. I rapped on the glass and she threw the window open.
“Put that apron on,” I said, pointing to the one that hung on the door to the pantry.
She looked adorable as she struggled with it, so I popped back into the kitchen and helped her tuck her pallu into the waist of her saree before I tied the apron strings.
“Thanks,” she muttered, still not meeting my eyes.
I raised her chin and kissed her swiftly. She kissed me back for a minute before she drew back angrily.
“I was just following orders,” I said, pointing to her sunshine yellow apron which ordered you to kiss the cook.
“Hmph! Do you always kiss the cook who wears this apron?” she asked snidely.
“Since this apron belongs to our chief bawarchi who is a huge mountain of a man that can wring my neck with one hand, I have to say I don’t. But I promise to kiss you every time you wear it.”
“For how long, Dheer? How soon will you lose your head over another woman like you did the last time?”
Despair twisted my insides at her damning words.
“I swear to you, Diya. I will not look at another woman for the rest of my life,” I swore, but she didn’t look very convinced. “I know I fucked up nine years ago, but we were both kids then. You were twenty-one and I was twenty-five. Can’t you forgive the mistake I made when I was a young fool?”
“Have you cheated on any other woman after that?” she demanded.
“No. Never!” I replied with conviction, but Diya just flashed me a bitter, crooked smile that broke my heart.
“So it was just me that you tired of. In that case, what is to stop you from losing interest in me again?”
“Give me a chance to prove myself,” I begged. “I swear to God, Diya, I won’t let you down again.”
A week ago, I had no idea that I was about to be thrown into Diya’s orbit again, let alone predict that we would be married before the week was out. I had stayed away from her for nine years because I thought that was the right thing to do, but as soon as I got to know her again, as soon as I touched her again, I found myself falling for her all over again.
It wasn’t just her beauty that drew me to her. It was her courage. The way she was willing to risk her life for a woman she didn’t even know, and the way she did not back down in the face of extreme danger. Diya was my warrior princess. And I loved the way she was with my family. I loved her closeness to Isha, her kindness to my mother who hadn’t known much kindness in life, as well as the way she stood up to Dadi Sa’s tyranny without being rude.
I’d cut my heart out before I hurt her again, but I didn’t know how to convince her. For now, I decided to just help her. I forced a smile and let myself out into the herb garden again before she could reply.
“Take that big pan and put it on the hob. Now, take some ghee and… no! That is salted butter, not ghee! Put that down and check the big glass jar in front of you,” I whispered frantically through the window.
It was a long and arduous process, but I took Diya through the steps of making seviyan kheer, and almost an hour later, the kheer was bubbling in the pan while Diya did a happy dance around the kitchen. I winced when she banged her head into the edge of a cabinet door she’d left open. The woman really needed a keeper every minute of the day. A dedicated guardian angel. If only she’d hire me for the job, I thought with a wry smile. She’d drive me to drink before the year was out, but I’d die a happy man.
I plucked a red rose from my grandmother’s prized rose bushes and handed it to her through the window.
“Thank you,” she said, with a little blush. “But the whole credit goes to you. I couldn’t have done this without your help.”
“You’re a quick learner, Diya. Now, pluck that rose clean and sprinkle the petals over the kheer after you transfer it to a big bowl. Use the huge Wedgwood bowl. Dadi Sa likes it because it was part of her dowry. And there is silver varak in a little box in that drawer behind you. I’ll show you how to place it on the surface of the kheer.”
Diya wailed in despair when her first sheet of edible silver sank into the kheer like the Titanic, but she got the hang of it eventually.
“I’ll see you in the dining room,” I said when I heard the sound of Dadi Sa’s walker approaching the kitchen.
“Wait! Are you sure this is fine?” she hissed.
“It’s perfect,” I said, reaching through the window and taking her hands. I raised them to my lips and kissed them gently, and was rewarded by Diya’s smile. “Now, go and show off your kheer, and remember, don’t let Dadi Sa browbeat you into anything.”
