Fiction: Sparks fly between middle-aged Nandini and Vikas as a series of mishaps bring them closer

She did not like the idea of going up to the man’s house. If he had been there when Shalu had given that instruction about the fennel seeds, it would have been a different matter. Now she would be obliged to go up to his home and tell him that she was here on an errand for which she had no proof. There had been something disapproving about him, as if he did not like her. A vibe. She found him brusque, and brusque people put her off. Besides, she didn’t like barging into people’s houses. Not to ask for fennel seeds, or – worse – to pound them.

She had no wish to face him, but she would have to, for Shalu’s sake, and Munnu’s. She heaved a sigh of resignation and lifted the latch on the gate.

When he opened the door in response to her knocking, it was to stare at her in bewilderment. That changed, in the next instant – as he recognised her, she thought – to worry. “What happened?” he asked, speaking in Hindi, as before. “Is the baby all right now? He’s quiet, isn’t he?” He stopped, as if to listen, and nodded. “He is. He must…

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