06-08-2025, 12:25 AM
(This post was last modified: 16-08-2025, 04:20 PM by nivithenaughty. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 6: Owning the Room
A week into her return, Nivi felt the office shift around her, like Coimbatore’s morning mist settling into a clear day. Her cream kurti flowed softly, catching the light as she moved through the office, the faint hum of printers blending with the city’s pulse outside—autos rattling, vendors calling out for fresh bananas and filter coffee. The work was steady—balancing ledgers, catching errors—but the real rhythm was in the people: the gang’s laughter, the women’s warmth, even Raghavan’s rare nods. Today, her steps felt lighter, her confidence a quiet glow. She wasn’t just the mom juggling college runs or the wife lost in Anand’s haze of whiskey and bills. Here, she was Nivi, and she was starting to feel it.
At the tea station, the gang was already buzzing, the air thick with cardamom and their easy banter. Ashwin leaned on the counter, mimicking a client’s over-the-top email. “Guy wrote ‘urgent’ in all caps, like I’d drop everything,” he said, rolling his eyes.
Dinesh chuckled, stirring his chai. “You’d drop everything for a good biryani, don’t lie.” He glanced at Nivi, grinning. “You’re looking chirpy today, Nivi. Kids let you sleep?”
Ashok, sipping quietly, gave her a small smile, his eyes lingering a moment before dropping. “Yeah, you seem… happy,” he said softly.
She poured her tea, the steel tumbler warm in her hands. “The boys were angels this morning—rare, but I’ll take it.” She laughed, but as she reached for a biscuit, her dupatta slipped, baring a sliver of her shoulder.
She caught it fast, but Ashwin’s story paused, his grin softening, and a passing intern’s eyes flicked her way before he hurried off. The stranger’s glance was quick, curious, and it sparked something in her—a flicker of awareness that she wasn’t just blending in anymore. They’re all seeing me, she thought, her curiosity deepening, though she kept her smile light.
Mid-morning, Ashwin clapped his hands at the tea station. “We need a break from this grind. Game night tonight—cards at that cafe near the temple. Like old times, Nivi, you in?”
Dinesh nodded. “Team up with me, Nivi. We always crushed these guys at rummy.”
Ashok perked up, a rare spark in his eyes. “I’m in. Been practicing.”
Nivi grinned, the idea lifting her mood. “You’re on, but don’t cry when I win.” The promise of an outing felt like a small escape, a chance to lean into the gang’s warmth.
That evening, they headed to a cozy cafe tucked down a bustling street, its wooden tables lit by soft bulbs, the air heavy with coffee and fried vada. Coimbatore’s nightlife hummed outside—street lamps flickering, a group of college kids laughing by a juice stall.
They claimed a corner table, the waiter sliding a deck of cards their way. As Nivi dealt, her kurti sleeve brushed the table, catching briefly and showing a hint of her waist.
She fixed it, but a man at the next table glanced over, his eyes lingering before he turned back to his friend. The look wasn’t bold, just curious, but it added to the day’s quiet buzz—she was being noticed, not just by the gang but by strangers too.
The game kicked off with Ashwin’s loud bets.
“Loser buys the next round of coffee!” he declared, tossing down a bad card. Dinesh groaned, “You’re hopeless,” while Ashok played a sly move, earning a cheer. Nivi laughed, her competitive streak waking up, but during a break, she found herself alone with Dinesh at the counter, ordering snacks.
“You seem more settled,” he said, his wit softening. “But something’s still off, isn’t it?”
She hesitated, stirring her coffee. “It’s Anand. He’s drinking more, buried in work. I feel like I’m running the house alone, you know? The kids are my world, but it’s… empty sometimes.” Her voice was low, the confession slipping out.
Dinesh’s glasses slipped as he nodded. “That’s tough. You’re stronger than you think, Nivi. And you’ve got us—lean on the gang when it gets heavy.” His words were simple, but they hit deep, easing the ache she’d carried.
“Thanks,” she said, her smile genuine. Back at the table, Ashok won a round, his shy grin lighting up as Nivi teased, “Beginner’s luck?” The group’s laughter wrapped her in warmth, but as they left, another stranger—a vendor packing up nearby—glanced her way, his eyes catching her silhouette against the cafe’s glow.
It was fleeting, but it stirred that same curiosity. Why are they looking? she wondered, the thought lingering as they walked back through the lively streets.
At home, her mother-in-law noticed her glow. “You’re smiling more,” she said, chopping onions for dinner. “Work’s bringing you back.”
Nivi nodded, setting plates for the kids. “It’s the people. They make it feel… alive.” In bed, Anand’s snores filled the silence, but her mind replayed the day—the gang’s support, Dinesh’s kind words, those strangers’ glances. Something’s shifting, she thought, her heart light but curious, Coimbatore’s distant hum matching the quiet spark in her chest.
Continues....
A week into her return, Nivi felt the office shift around her, like Coimbatore’s morning mist settling into a clear day. Her cream kurti flowed softly, catching the light as she moved through the office, the faint hum of printers blending with the city’s pulse outside—autos rattling, vendors calling out for fresh bananas and filter coffee. The work was steady—balancing ledgers, catching errors—but the real rhythm was in the people: the gang’s laughter, the women’s warmth, even Raghavan’s rare nods. Today, her steps felt lighter, her confidence a quiet glow. She wasn’t just the mom juggling college runs or the wife lost in Anand’s haze of whiskey and bills. Here, she was Nivi, and she was starting to feel it.
At the tea station, the gang was already buzzing, the air thick with cardamom and their easy banter. Ashwin leaned on the counter, mimicking a client’s over-the-top email. “Guy wrote ‘urgent’ in all caps, like I’d drop everything,” he said, rolling his eyes.
Dinesh chuckled, stirring his chai. “You’d drop everything for a good biryani, don’t lie.” He glanced at Nivi, grinning. “You’re looking chirpy today, Nivi. Kids let you sleep?”
Ashok, sipping quietly, gave her a small smile, his eyes lingering a moment before dropping. “Yeah, you seem… happy,” he said softly.
She poured her tea, the steel tumbler warm in her hands. “The boys were angels this morning—rare, but I’ll take it.” She laughed, but as she reached for a biscuit, her dupatta slipped, baring a sliver of her shoulder.
She caught it fast, but Ashwin’s story paused, his grin softening, and a passing intern’s eyes flicked her way before he hurried off. The stranger’s glance was quick, curious, and it sparked something in her—a flicker of awareness that she wasn’t just blending in anymore. They’re all seeing me, she thought, her curiosity deepening, though she kept her smile light.
Mid-morning, Ashwin clapped his hands at the tea station. “We need a break from this grind. Game night tonight—cards at that cafe near the temple. Like old times, Nivi, you in?”
Dinesh nodded. “Team up with me, Nivi. We always crushed these guys at rummy.”
Ashok perked up, a rare spark in his eyes. “I’m in. Been practicing.”
Nivi grinned, the idea lifting her mood. “You’re on, but don’t cry when I win.” The promise of an outing felt like a small escape, a chance to lean into the gang’s warmth.
That evening, they headed to a cozy cafe tucked down a bustling street, its wooden tables lit by soft bulbs, the air heavy with coffee and fried vada. Coimbatore’s nightlife hummed outside—street lamps flickering, a group of college kids laughing by a juice stall.
They claimed a corner table, the waiter sliding a deck of cards their way. As Nivi dealt, her kurti sleeve brushed the table, catching briefly and showing a hint of her waist.
She fixed it, but a man at the next table glanced over, his eyes lingering before he turned back to his friend. The look wasn’t bold, just curious, but it added to the day’s quiet buzz—she was being noticed, not just by the gang but by strangers too.
The game kicked off with Ashwin’s loud bets.
“Loser buys the next round of coffee!” he declared, tossing down a bad card. Dinesh groaned, “You’re hopeless,” while Ashok played a sly move, earning a cheer. Nivi laughed, her competitive streak waking up, but during a break, she found herself alone with Dinesh at the counter, ordering snacks.
“You seem more settled,” he said, his wit softening. “But something’s still off, isn’t it?”
She hesitated, stirring her coffee. “It’s Anand. He’s drinking more, buried in work. I feel like I’m running the house alone, you know? The kids are my world, but it’s… empty sometimes.” Her voice was low, the confession slipping out.
Dinesh’s glasses slipped as he nodded. “That’s tough. You’re stronger than you think, Nivi. And you’ve got us—lean on the gang when it gets heavy.” His words were simple, but they hit deep, easing the ache she’d carried.
“Thanks,” she said, her smile genuine. Back at the table, Ashok won a round, his shy grin lighting up as Nivi teased, “Beginner’s luck?” The group’s laughter wrapped her in warmth, but as they left, another stranger—a vendor packing up nearby—glanced her way, his eyes catching her silhouette against the cafe’s glow.
It was fleeting, but it stirred that same curiosity. Why are they looking? she wondered, the thought lingering as they walked back through the lively streets.
At home, her mother-in-law noticed her glow. “You’re smiling more,” she said, chopping onions for dinner. “Work’s bringing you back.”
Nivi nodded, setting plates for the kids. “It’s the people. They make it feel… alive.” In bed, Anand’s snores filled the silence, but her mind replayed the day—the gang’s support, Dinesh’s kind words, those strangers’ glances. Something’s shifting, she thought, her heart light but curious, Coimbatore’s distant hum matching the quiet spark in her chest.
Continues....
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