12-08-2026, 08:40 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-09-2026, 02:09 PM by Authorsunny.)
Chapter 7 Continued
22 October 2025 – Wednesday
I came home at the normal time. The flat was empty. There was a note on the folding table written in her neat hand:
*Going out with Azad ji to help him with some work in his other building. Will be back by 8 or 8:30. Food is in the fridge.*
The other building. The one near Jogeshwari he owned.
I heated the food and ate alone. The room felt even smaller. Every sound from the corridor outside seemed louder. At eight-forty the key turned.
Ma walked in wearing the black kurti and jeans. Her hair was open and slightly wind-blown. There was a faint flush on her cheeks and a small shopping bag from a store I did not recognise in her hand. She looked… satisfied.
“You ate?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She dropped the bag on the bed and stretched. The kurti lifted. I saw the soft curve of her waist.
“His other building is nicer than this one, Sunny,” she said while removing her sandals. “Bigger flats. Better facilities. He was showing the contractor some work. I just went along. Then he insisted on dropping me in his car.”
She opened the small shopping bag and took out a bottle of body lotion — a branded one, not the cheap local kind she used to buy — and a thin silver bracelet.
“He saw me looking at the bracelet in the shop near his building. He bought it. I told him not to. He didn’t listen.”
She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and held her hand up to the light. The silver looked clean and new against her wheatish skin.
“You took it?”
“What was I supposed to do? Throw it back at him?” She looked at me and shook her head, almost smiling. “You’re still so young, Sunny. When someone older and settled offers something small, you accept it gracefully. That is how the world works.”
The sentence was soft. The humiliation inside it was not.
She went into the bathroom to change. I sat on the chair and stared at the new silver bracelet lying on the bed where she had kept it for a moment. The branded lotion stood beside it. The rent was already reduced. The sweets had come earlier. The car had dropped her home. And every time she spoke about him her voice carried a quiet preference for him.
When she came out she was in a simple old nighty. She sat on the bed and started applying the new lotion to her arms and neck. The smell was richer than the previous one. She rubbed it slowly into the soft skin of her upper arms, then down toward her collarbones. The nighty sat loosely, but when she leaned forward the neckline fell open and the heavy soft shape of her breasts moved freely inside it. She had not bothered with a bra.
She noticed me watching and did not stop.
“I know you look,” she said quietly, still rubbing the lotion. “But don't let it spoil yourself. I am only living a little after so many years. That is all.”
She finished with her arms and started on her legs, lifting the nighty just high enough. The soft flesh of her thighs looked smooth under the tube light. She spoke again without looking at me.
“Azad ji is a decent man. He has money, he has position in the area, he does not pretend to be something he is not. And he does not make me feel like I am only a widow who should stay inside and cook. That is more than most people have done for me.”
The words were calm and final.
She put the lotion bottle away, switched off the main light, and lay down with her back to me. Her phone rested under her pillow again. I could see the faint glow when a message arrived a few minutes later. She did not pick it up immediately. She waited almost a minute, as if deciding, then reached for it and typed a short reply in the dark.
I lay on my side staring at the familiar ceiling of the small room.
---
22 October 2025 – Wednesday
I came home at the normal time. The flat was empty. There was a note on the folding table written in her neat hand:
*Going out with Azad ji to help him with some work in his other building. Will be back by 8 or 8:30. Food is in the fridge.*
The other building. The one near Jogeshwari he owned.
I heated the food and ate alone. The room felt even smaller. Every sound from the corridor outside seemed louder. At eight-forty the key turned.
Ma walked in wearing the black kurti and jeans. Her hair was open and slightly wind-blown. There was a faint flush on her cheeks and a small shopping bag from a store I did not recognise in her hand. She looked… satisfied.
“You ate?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She dropped the bag on the bed and stretched. The kurti lifted. I saw the soft curve of her waist.
“His other building is nicer than this one, Sunny,” she said while removing her sandals. “Bigger flats. Better facilities. He was showing the contractor some work. I just went along. Then he insisted on dropping me in his car.”
She opened the small shopping bag and took out a bottle of body lotion — a branded one, not the cheap local kind she used to buy — and a thin silver bracelet.
“He saw me looking at the bracelet in the shop near his building. He bought it. I told him not to. He didn’t listen.”
She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and held her hand up to the light. The silver looked clean and new against her wheatish skin.
“You took it?”
“What was I supposed to do? Throw it back at him?” She looked at me and shook her head, almost smiling. “You’re still so young, Sunny. When someone older and settled offers something small, you accept it gracefully. That is how the world works.”
The sentence was soft. The humiliation inside it was not.
She went into the bathroom to change. I sat on the chair and stared at the new silver bracelet lying on the bed where she had kept it for a moment. The branded lotion stood beside it. The rent was already reduced. The sweets had come earlier. The car had dropped her home. And every time she spoke about him her voice carried a quiet preference for him.
When she came out she was in a simple old nighty. She sat on the bed and started applying the new lotion to her arms and neck. The smell was richer than the previous one. She rubbed it slowly into the soft skin of her upper arms, then down toward her collarbones. The nighty sat loosely, but when she leaned forward the neckline fell open and the heavy soft shape of her breasts moved freely inside it. She had not bothered with a bra.
She noticed me watching and did not stop.
“I know you look,” she said quietly, still rubbing the lotion. “But don't let it spoil yourself. I am only living a little after so many years. That is all.”
She finished with her arms and started on her legs, lifting the nighty just high enough. The soft flesh of her thighs looked smooth under the tube light. She spoke again without looking at me.
“Azad ji is a decent man. He has money, he has position in the area, he does not pretend to be something he is not. And he does not make me feel like I am only a widow who should stay inside and cook. That is more than most people have done for me.”
The words were calm and final.
She put the lotion bottle away, switched off the main light, and lay down with her back to me. Her phone rested under her pillow again. I could see the faint glow when a message arrived a few minutes later. She did not pick it up immediately. She waited almost a minute, as if deciding, then reached for it and typed a short reply in the dark.
I lay on my side staring at the familiar ceiling of the small room.
---
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