Chapter 1: Old Wine in New Bottle

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Pragya was smiling softly to herself as she peeped out of the flight window. They were due to land in Mumbai in another twenty minutes. She was relishing the first aerial sight of Mumbai after four long years now. She was never really a patriot from her heart, but homecoming after four long years did make her feel a little nationalistic. Her Mumbai, which was once upon a time her home. Now of course home is Stanford - and she had no wishes of leaving her home to come to India ever since she left. There in the States, away from home, away from close ones, away from bitter memories and heart breaks, she had built a heaven of her own. It was her own palace of illusions - where she believed she had no pain and regret to life. True she had moved on. She didn't remember Abhi any longer. It was difficult in the initial months, but with no qualms in her heart, she found it easier to let go of him. Once in a while she would surf the TV channels and come across his concerts, then she would pause for a few minutes to listen with a smile of familiarity, but she never really understood his kind of music, so she would change the channel after a bit and go on - never sparing one moment thinking about anything beyond his rockstar image. True he still did have an impact on her, but that was restricted to only stopping her from ever coming back to India. She knew if she returned, daadi would want to meet her, who knows even Abhi may want to catch up, but she had put her past so far behind, that she was too reluctant to go back there to even check if they still mattered to her - in no other ways did Abhishek Prem Mehra matter to Pragya Arora anymore.

Her mother never went with her to the States, as was their initial plan. She had understood everything when Abhi had broken it down to her. There was that regular cycle of anger, denial, acceptance and moving on. But she had made it clear that she wasn't going to leave Pragya's daadi behind to go with her. So they stayed back as Pragya went away. Of course they would come to visit her every once a year - but she never came to visit them. Bulbul and Purab would initially request her, then plead with her and finally even tricked her, but she never gave in, until the last time Purab called. After the usual conversation with Bulbul and her mother and daadi (her mother and daadi were staying at Bulbul's because Purab and Bulbul were expecting their first child, and she was in her final month), Purab had taken the phone.

"Di, I just want to tell you, this will be Bulbul and my last attempt to convince you to visit Mumbai once. If you don't come even this time, we will never ask you to. We will understand, there are boundaries which you can cross for no one. Di, Bulbul will go into labour in another three weeks. After delivery with such a small baby she can't travel for at least two-three years. If you would rather see your niece or nephew in person for the first time only after he/she is that old then it's fine. But di, I know even though Bulbul will say she understands, she will still want you to be around her when she sees her baby for the first time. She will want the baby's maasi to be there for the baby right from birth, she will want to share the joys of motherhood with her sister too. Di, please don't let your past dampen Bulbul's joy on such a special phase if possible"

Pragya let go of a silent tear of both joy and pain. She could shun herself from all, but a baby who isn't even born yet? Her baby sister's little baby? How could she say no this time? She let out a deep breath and replied.

"Purab, tell Golu that maasi is coming"

"Di, really? That is such a great news! But who is Golu?"

"Arre the baby's nickname! It's the maasi or the bua's right! And in both cases, it me! So Golu!"

Purab had chuckled and then hung up quickly to inform the family of their new added cause of joy.

And now Bulbul was due in two days and she had finally landed in Mumbai. Just in time to catch up with her Golu.

***

Sarla was sitting with Bulbul in their drawing cum dining room couch and chopping vegetables, her Pragya was going to be home after four years this late afternoon. She was making all her favourite dishes. Daadi was sitting in the chair by the dining table and reading the mornings newspaper. Purab was sitting in the chair next to her and having breakfast. He was in a hurry, he had to leave for the airport in sometime to pickup Pragya di. There was an air of general excitement in the room. Sarla was thinking about something for a few days now, she thought of brining it before Bulbul now.

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