TEMPLE
I sat on the bed, watching him get ready from the corner of my eye.
I told myself not to look.
Not to care.
But my gaze betrayed me.
It kept drifting back to him.
The way he rolled up the sleeves of his pale olive green shirt…
The way the fabric folded neatly over his forearms…
The way he adjusted his sand-coloured formal pants, standing in front of the mirror like everything in his life was still in control.
Unlike mine.
“Where are you going?” I asked, my voice coming out softer than I intended.
He didn’t answer immediately.
He removed his glasses, cleaning them slowly before looking at me through the mirror.
“I am going to a temple,” he said.
“For what?”
He paused for a second, then wore his glasses again.
“To wash clothes.”
I clicked my tongue in irritation, rolling my eyes.
“People go to temples to pray,” he added dryly, slipping his phone into his pocket.
I hesitated.
Just for a moment.
“Can I come with you?” I asked, my voice quieter now, my fingers fidgeting unconsciously.
He turned to me, narrowing his eyes slightly.
“What will you do there?”
“I will also pray,” I said quickly.
A lie.
A very obvious one.
“You are a Christian,” he muttered.
“So what? I will pray,” I replied immediately.
I don’t even pray to my own God.
He exhaled slowly, like he was already tired of this conversation, and walked out to the living room.
“Don’t dream that I will buy anything for you,” he said.
I ignored that completely.
“I can’t wait a lifetime. Get ready quickly,” he added.
A small smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
I rushed to close the door behind me, my hands already moving through my clothes.
I picked out a simple yellow gown at first—something easy, something casual.
But then—
My fingers stilled.
My eyes landed on something else.
A light green saree… with a deep velvet red border.
My breath hitched.
Amma’s saree.
I stepped closer, my fingers brushing against the soft fabric before I slowly took it into my hands.
My chest tightened instantly.
I hugged it close, burying my face slightly into it.
Her fragrance…
Faint.
But still there.
Alive in the threads.
For a moment—
Everything else faded.
I quickly searched for a matching blouse, my hands moving with urgency now.
Once I found it, I changed without thinking twice, draping the saree carefully around me.
Each fold felt… heavier than it should.
Each pin… steadier than my heart.
When I finally pinned the pallu on my shoulder, I looked at myself in the mirror.
Beautiful.
But not more than her.
Never more than her.
A small sigh escaped my lips as I reached for the jhumkas—the same ones I had forced him to buy for me.
I wore them, adjusting them slightly before picking up my phone.
Then I stepped out.
He was standing there, scrolling through his phone, completely unaware of my presence.
Or maybe… pretending to be.
I stood still for a second.
Waiting.
His eyes finally found me—and he suddenly paused.
It was not loud, not dramatic, not something anyone else would have noticed… but I felt it.
That stillness.
He stood there without moving, his gaze fixed on me in a way that made my heartbeat falter for a second, before it began to race all over again.
His eyes slowly travelled over me, not hurried, not careless, but with a strange kind of attention that made me instantly lower my gaze.
Why does he always do this?
The same thing had happened at the mall… and now again.
What is wrong with him?
Or…
What is wrong with me?
My breathing turned uneven without my permission, my chest rising and falling a little faster than it should, as I became painfully aware of the weight of his gaze still resting on me.
The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating, wrapping around my thoughts until I could hear nothing but the faint rhythm of my own heartbeat.
My fingers tightened around my phone unconsciously.
Am I looking ugly?
The thought came suddenly, uninvited, and it made me more restless than I wanted to admit.
I gathered a little courage and lifted my gaze, just for a second—
And immediately regretted it.
Because he was still looking at me.
Not casually.
Not distracted.
But like… he hadn’t looked away even once.
What the fuck man?
Something inside me shifted.
Before I could make sense of it, he started walking toward me.
Slowly.
Step by step.
And he didn’t stop.
Not until he stood right in front of me.
Close enough for me to feel his presence before I could even think about it.
Close enough for the air between us to feel different… warmer… heavier.
I held my breath without realizing it, my eyes dropping again as I tried to steady myself, but it only made everything worse.
“Let’s go,” I whispered under my breath, my voice softer than it had ever been with him, almost unfamiliar even to my own ears.
The words barely left me, yet they felt loud in the silence that surrounded us.
I slowly lifted my gaze to him—
And instantly got caught.
His eyes were already on mine.
Not wandering.
Not distracted.
Locked.
My heart stuttered, then began to race uncontrollably, each beat louder than the last as I stood there, unable to look away, unable to move.
For a moment, everything about him felt… different.
His hair was slightly messy, like he had run his fingers through it instead of combing it properly. A few strands had fallen over his forehead, softening the sharpness of his face. And those glasses—
They made him look…
I swallowed lightly.
…attractive.
The realization came suddenly, catching me off guard, making my grip tighten around my phone again.
“Can we go?” I asked once more, this time a little louder, trying to steady my voice, trying to sound like myself again.
He blinked.
His expression shifted instantly, and for a second, he looked exactly like someone who had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.
His gaze broke away from mine abruptly, his hand moving to the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.
“H-helmet…” he muttered under his breath, almost to himself. “I forgot it.”
And just like that—
He walked past me quickly.
Too quickly.
As if he was trying to escape something.
I stood there for a moment, unmoving, watching his retreating figure as a small, quiet smile tugged at my lips without my permission.
I walked outside and stood beside his bike, waiting for him in the quiet morning air that still carried a faint warmth from the rising sun.
He came out after a while, locking the door behind him, his movements back to being calm and composed—as if that moment inside never existed.
I stepped aside as he sat on the bike, wearing his helmet and adjusting it with practiced ease before starting the engine.
The sound broke the silence between us.
I stayed where I was.
Still.
Because suddenly—
Something as simple as getting on the bike didn’t feel simple anymore.
In my usual clothes, I would just swing my leg over and sit comfortably.
But now…
This saree.
This unfamiliar drape around my legs.
I couldn’t sit the way I always did.
I had to sit on one side.
I hesitated.
Just for a moment.
But he noticed.
He turned his head slightly, looking back at me.
Not saying anything.
Just… watching.
I tried to get on without touching him, lifting myself carefully, avoiding his shoulders like they would burn me if I did.
But I lost balance.
And stepped back immediately.
A small, awkward failure.
Before I could try again—
He turned fully this time.
And slowly…
He held his hand out to me.
My breath caught.
My eyes dropped to his hand.
My heart started fluttered for no reason I could explain.
I hesitated for a second longer—
Then placed one hand on his shoulder.
And the other…
Into his.
His fingers closed around mine instinctively, firm yet careful, helping me steady myself as I got onto the bike.
The touch lasted only a moment.
But it was enough.
Enough to send a strange warmth rushing through me.
Enough to make my face heat up for no normal reason.
I quickly adjusted myself, sitting sideways, my saree gathered carefully, my fingers still lightly resting on his shoulder.
And even after letting go of his hand—
The feeling of it…
Lingered.
He waited.
As if he knew I needed that moment.
I adjusted the folds of my saree carefully, making sure it wouldn’t slip, my fingers brushing against the fabric again and again until I finally felt settled.
A small breath escaped me.
I hummed softly, almost to myself.
He didn’t respond.
But the next second—
The bike started.
Slowly.
The streets stretched ahead of us, waking up to another ordinary morning.
People walking.
Shops opening.
Voices blending into the air.
Everything felt familiar.
Strangely familiar.
These roads…
These turns…
They were no longer new to me.
Just like this life—
The one I never chose willingly…
Yet somehow started knowing.
The bike moved steadily, cutting through the streets with ease.
I held onto the edge of the seat at first.
Careful.
Maintaining distance.
Maintaining control.
But the road curved slightly—
And without thinking—
My fingers moved.
They found his shoulder again.
Lightly.
Barely touching.
As if I was asking for permission without saying a word.
He didn’t react.
Didn’t pull away.
Didn’t acknowledge it either.
I sat there quietly, the wind playing with the loose strands of my hair, my saree brushing softly against my legs, my fingers resting where they shouldn’t have felt so natural.
As the bike moved faster, the city around us blurred into streaks of color and noise, buildings and people passing by like fleeting thoughts I could not hold onto.
And then—
He slowed down.
The bike came to a halt near a temple, surrounded by rows of parked vehicles and people moving in and out like waves that never seemed to stop.
He parked the bike carefully among them.
I got down slowly, adjusting the pleats of my saree, making sure everything stayed in place as my eyes wandered around the unfamiliar space.
“Leave your slippers here,” he said, casually removing his and placing them right beside the bike.
I frowned slightly, looking at the entrance where many others had left theirs in a crowded corner.
“We can leave it there,” I said, pointing toward it.
“If you leave it there, somebody will steal it,” he muttered.
My eyes widened instantly.
Without another word, I quietly slipped off my footwear and placed it exactly where he had kept his.
“Wait here. I will go and buy a few things. Don’t go anywhere,” he said before walking toward a small shop nearby.
I stood there.
Alone.
My gaze moved around slowly, taking in everything.
The sound of bells ringing somewhere inside…
The murmur of prayers…
The scent of incense mixed with flowers…
It all felt… new.
Unfamiliar.
I had never been to a place like this before.
After my mom…
Even churches became rare for me.
And a temple…
This was my first time.
People moved around me, strangers brushing past me, voices overlapping, footsteps echoing.
A strange discomfort crept into me.
A quiet fear.
What if he leaves me again?
The thought came suddenly, making my fingers curl slightly.
Without thinking further, I turned and walked quickly toward him.
He was still at the shop, picking things—flowers, small packets of camphor, a coconut.
He noticed me approaching but didn’t say anything.
Just glanced once…
Then continued what he was doing.
“Come,” he said finally, turning and walking ahead.
I followed him silently.
The temple was not small.
It was huge.
Grand.
Crowded.
I did not know if it was a special day…
But the number of people made it feel overwhelming.
Voices, movement, devotion—everything merged into something I could not keep up with.
A small panic rose inside me again. I don't want to get lost in his crowd.
Before I could stop myself—
My hand moved.
And I held onto the sleeve of his shirt.
Lightly.
Barely.
He turned his head slightly, his eyes falling on my hand.
Then on my face.
But he said nothing.
He didn’t remove my hand.
Didn’t question it.
He just… continued walking.
And in that crowded place—
Surrounded by strangers—
That small piece of fabric beneath my fingers…
Felt like the only thing I knew.