Chapter 9

Sanaya’s P.O.V “I’m home!” I called out as I shut the front door behind me. “Maa?” I asked out loud when I didn’t hear her reply. “Maa, where are you?” Hanging my keys in the key holder beside the door, I took off my shoes and entered the house. The bright neon green sticky note stuck to the fridge was like a huge pop-up sign that I already knew the contents of, but I ripped it off the fridge and read it anyway. Gone to Mrs. Sharma’s for Maata Ki Chowki. Don’t wait up for me. P.S- Mrs. Sharma’s son, Rahul, he’s also going to be there. I heard he’s a civil engineer. I’ll save you a seat. I sighed and threw the note away in the trash can. Only my mom would make a post script longer than the actual message and advertise her friend’s ‘talented son’ all at once. Her Maata Ki Chowki, which is supposed to a night dedicated to prayers of the great Indian Goddesses, is just a chugli (gossip) club that the Indian aunties in our community use as an excuse to get together and bitch about everyone