06-08-2025, 12:27 AM
(This post was last modified: 16-08-2025, 04:22 PM by nivithenaughty. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 7: Commanding Eyes
Three weeks into her return, Nivi moved through the office with a quiet ease, the hum of Coimbatore’s morning traffic filtering through the windows—autos honking, a fruit vendor’s call rising above the din.
Her navy kurti felt light, its soft fabric catching the breeze as she sorted through client files. The office had become her sanctuary, a place where she wasn’t just the mom rushing through college drop-offs or the wife lost in Anand’s haze of late nights and liquor. Here, the gang’s laughter and the steady rhythm of work made her feel like herself again, though a new awareness simmered—those fleeting glances from colleagues, the way heads turned at the tea station. Even strangers outside, like the shopkeeper who’d stared as she bought bananas yesterday, seemed to notice her in a way they hadn’t before.
At the tea station, the gang was in their usual orbit, the air thick with the scent of ginger chai. Ashwin leaned back, recounting a client’s absurd demand for a same-day audit. “Guy thought we’re magicians,” he said, tossing a biscuit in the air and catching it.
Dinesh smirked, adjusting his glasses. “You’d need more than magic to survive that one, Ashwin.” He glanced at Nivi, handing her a tumbler. “You’re looking settled, Nivi. Office life agreeing with you?”
Ashok, quiet as ever, sipped his tea, his eyes flicking to her briefly. “Yeah, you seem… at home,” he said, his voice soft but warm.
Nivi stirred her chai, smiling. “It’s starting to feel like it. The boys are keeping me on my toes, but this place helps.” As she reached for the biscuit tin, her dupatta slipped slightly, catching on the counter and baring a hint of her collarbone. She fixed it fast, but Ashwin’s story paused, his grin softening, and a passing delivery boy outside the window glanced her way, his eyes lingering before he pedaled off.
The moment was quick, but it added to her growing curiosity—why were these looks happening now? She pushed it aside, keeping the chatter light. “You guys still fighting over cricket scores?” she teased, steering them back.
Mid-morning, Dinesh suggested a break. “This office is a pressure cooker today,” he said, stretching. “Let’s walk to that temple down the street—clear our heads. You in, Nivi?”
Ashwin clapped. “Good call. Maybe we’ll pray for clients who actually send files on time.”
Ashok nodded, a shy smile breaking through. “I could use some calm.”
Nivi agreed, the idea of fresh air appealing. They stepped out, crossing the bustling street where a dosa cart’s sizzle mixed with the scent of jasmine from a flower stall.
The small temple, tucked between shops, glowed with oil lamps, its bells ringing softly as devotees moved in and out. Nivi slipped off her sandals, the cool stone soothing her feet.
As they walked the courtyard, a group of college students passed, one pausing to glance at her, his eyes catching her silhouette before hurrying off. The look was subtle, but it stirred that same awareness—she was standing out, even here.
Inside, they lit lamps, the flicker calming the group’s usual energy. Ashok lingered near her, quieter than the others. “This place is peaceful,” he said, his voice barely above the chants.
“Yeah,” Nivi said, her guard softening. Later, as they sat on a bench outside, she found herself alone with him, the others chatting with a priest. “Ashok, can I say something?” she asked, her voice low.
“Home’s been… heavy. Anand’s so focused on work and bills, it’s like I’m invisible there. The kids are everything, but sometimes I feel like I’m fading.”
Ashok’s eyes widened, his usual shyness giving way to concern.
“You’re not invisible, Nivi. You’re… strong. We see you here.” His words were halting but earnest, and they hit her deeply, easing the ache she’d carried.
“Thanks,” she said, her smile small but real. The moment felt like a thread tying her to the gang, their support a quiet anchor. Back at the office, the afternoon passed with her helping Ashwin on a report, their laughter over a client’s typo—“expence” instead of “expense”—lightening her mood. Raghavan stopped by later, his tone warm. “Nivetha, you’re picking up fast. The team’s leaning on you.”
She nodded, pride sparking. “Trying my best, sir.” His eyes held hers a moment, steady and encouraging, before he moved on.
At lunch, she joined the boys’ table, their banter pulling her in. “Nivi, you’re officially our good-luck charm,” Dinesh said, grinning. “No spreadsheet disasters since you got back.” As she laughed, her kurti sleeve caught on her chair, tugging to show a hint of her waist.
She fixed it, but a stranger—a courier guy dropping off a package—glanced her way, his eyes lingering before he left. It was quick, but it fueled her curiosity further. I’m not just one of them anymore, she thought, heading home as the sun dipped, Coimbatore’s skyline glowing.
The gang’s warmth, Ashok’s words, those strangers’ looks—they were small, but they made her feel alive, like a spark catching in her chest.
Continues...
Three weeks into her return, Nivi moved through the office with a quiet ease, the hum of Coimbatore’s morning traffic filtering through the windows—autos honking, a fruit vendor’s call rising above the din.
Her navy kurti felt light, its soft fabric catching the breeze as she sorted through client files. The office had become her sanctuary, a place where she wasn’t just the mom rushing through college drop-offs or the wife lost in Anand’s haze of late nights and liquor. Here, the gang’s laughter and the steady rhythm of work made her feel like herself again, though a new awareness simmered—those fleeting glances from colleagues, the way heads turned at the tea station. Even strangers outside, like the shopkeeper who’d stared as she bought bananas yesterday, seemed to notice her in a way they hadn’t before.
At the tea station, the gang was in their usual orbit, the air thick with the scent of ginger chai. Ashwin leaned back, recounting a client’s absurd demand for a same-day audit. “Guy thought we’re magicians,” he said, tossing a biscuit in the air and catching it.
Dinesh smirked, adjusting his glasses. “You’d need more than magic to survive that one, Ashwin.” He glanced at Nivi, handing her a tumbler. “You’re looking settled, Nivi. Office life agreeing with you?”
Ashok, quiet as ever, sipped his tea, his eyes flicking to her briefly. “Yeah, you seem… at home,” he said, his voice soft but warm.
Nivi stirred her chai, smiling. “It’s starting to feel like it. The boys are keeping me on my toes, but this place helps.” As she reached for the biscuit tin, her dupatta slipped slightly, catching on the counter and baring a hint of her collarbone. She fixed it fast, but Ashwin’s story paused, his grin softening, and a passing delivery boy outside the window glanced her way, his eyes lingering before he pedaled off.
The moment was quick, but it added to her growing curiosity—why were these looks happening now? She pushed it aside, keeping the chatter light. “You guys still fighting over cricket scores?” she teased, steering them back.
Mid-morning, Dinesh suggested a break. “This office is a pressure cooker today,” he said, stretching. “Let’s walk to that temple down the street—clear our heads. You in, Nivi?”
Ashwin clapped. “Good call. Maybe we’ll pray for clients who actually send files on time.”
Ashok nodded, a shy smile breaking through. “I could use some calm.”
Nivi agreed, the idea of fresh air appealing. They stepped out, crossing the bustling street where a dosa cart’s sizzle mixed with the scent of jasmine from a flower stall.
The small temple, tucked between shops, glowed with oil lamps, its bells ringing softly as devotees moved in and out. Nivi slipped off her sandals, the cool stone soothing her feet.
As they walked the courtyard, a group of college students passed, one pausing to glance at her, his eyes catching her silhouette before hurrying off. The look was subtle, but it stirred that same awareness—she was standing out, even here.
Inside, they lit lamps, the flicker calming the group’s usual energy. Ashok lingered near her, quieter than the others. “This place is peaceful,” he said, his voice barely above the chants.
“Yeah,” Nivi said, her guard softening. Later, as they sat on a bench outside, she found herself alone with him, the others chatting with a priest. “Ashok, can I say something?” she asked, her voice low.
“Home’s been… heavy. Anand’s so focused on work and bills, it’s like I’m invisible there. The kids are everything, but sometimes I feel like I’m fading.”
Ashok’s eyes widened, his usual shyness giving way to concern.
“You’re not invisible, Nivi. You’re… strong. We see you here.” His words were halting but earnest, and they hit her deeply, easing the ache she’d carried.
“Thanks,” she said, her smile small but real. The moment felt like a thread tying her to the gang, their support a quiet anchor. Back at the office, the afternoon passed with her helping Ashwin on a report, their laughter over a client’s typo—“expence” instead of “expense”—lightening her mood. Raghavan stopped by later, his tone warm. “Nivetha, you’re picking up fast. The team’s leaning on you.”
She nodded, pride sparking. “Trying my best, sir.” His eyes held hers a moment, steady and encouraging, before he moved on.
At lunch, she joined the boys’ table, their banter pulling her in. “Nivi, you’re officially our good-luck charm,” Dinesh said, grinning. “No spreadsheet disasters since you got back.” As she laughed, her kurti sleeve caught on her chair, tugging to show a hint of her waist.
She fixed it, but a stranger—a courier guy dropping off a package—glanced her way, his eyes lingering before he left. It was quick, but it fueled her curiosity further. I’m not just one of them anymore, she thought, heading home as the sun dipped, Coimbatore’s skyline glowing.
The gang’s warmth, Ashok’s words, those strangers’ looks—they were small, but they made her feel alive, like a spark catching in her chest.
Continues...
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