The Chair I Was Allowed

The cruelest thing Dev said was also the most revealing. He saw Leela pull out that chair, and for one second I could feel exactly how much it pleased him to prove that I belonged outside the family while the family itself was quietly making room for me. I wanted the chair anyway. That wounded me. I am greedy for every scrap of belonging, even when the person offering it hates me.

I ate beside Leela without arguing because I was afraid of my own voice, not because I accepted Dev’s rules. If I had spoken, I might have destroyed the careful fiction before I understood what Kabir’s widow meant to these people. Still, I kept ranking everyone at that table in my head. Dev loud and crude. Leela quiet but bold. Nandini brave in the practical way. Me? Desperate enough to hide inside a role until it holds me.

The worst threat was not being exposed here. It was Dev deciding that my mother should become the audience. Jaipur feels far away enough for me to be brave, but he knows exactly where my softness lives. I kept one hand around Reyansh’s phone all night, not only because of the draft, but because my escape route makes me feel less disposable.

Leela asked me to remain beside her for morning prayers. I heard trust in that request, though perhaps she only wanted continuity. I have wanted to be chosen by someone in this family so fiercely that I distrust the wanting.