Randhir: An indigo and mustard saree
1976
Later, he would remember that when the phone rang, it was towards the end of April, more than three-and-a-half months after Mahima’s wedding, and exams were around the corner. He and Arnav were taking a short break from studying. He was telling Arnav that he’d been wanting to go to Bombay to see Akhil and his wife but couldn’t do it because, if his father found out, he was screwed. As it was, his father had no idea he and his mother were writing to Akhil. ‘Do you miss Akhil?’ Arnav had asked curiously, and Randhir shrugged. He felt bad about what had happened, but he and the quiet, uncommunicative Akhil had never been close; they had nothing in common except their mutual love for cricket. ‘He is my brother,’ he had said to Arnav heavily.
The ph
