Pranati ate slowly, breaking a piece of roti absentmindedly. The food was warm, comforting… yet something about the silence made her uneasy.
After a moment, she spoke, casual on the surface.
"Mom… can I ask something?"
Jassi looked up immediately, alert. "Hmm?"
Pranati hesitated, then shrugged lightly, as if it didn't matter. "Suppose… a friend. She keeps having strange dreams. Sometimes she's inside houses that are crumbling. Sometimes she's running through a jungle, being chased. And sometimes…" She paused, her throat tightening. "Sometimes she sees herself standing among… dead bodies."
Jassi's hand stilled mid-air.
For just a second.
Then she resumed stirring the pot, her voice deliberately calm. "That's not normal dreaming."
Pranati frowned. "You think it's stress?"
Jassi shook her head slowly. "No. Stress dreams don't repeat like that. And they don't change locations."
Pranati tried to laugh it off. "You'll say it's the evil eye, won't you?"
Jassi looked at her sharply. "Yes."
Pranati rolled her eyes. "The evil eye… or what was it—evil nose?" She chuckled at her own joke. "Come on, Mom. These are all superstitions."
She took another bite, dismissing it.
But Jassi didn't laugh.
She turned fully toward Pranati, her expression unreadable. "Do you know what people misunderstand about the evil eye?"
Pranati shrugged. "That someone just stares at you and—boom—bad luck?"
Jassi's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "No. The evil eye isn't about jealousy alone. It's about attention. When something—or someone—looks at you too closely… for too long."
Pranati slowed her chewing.
Jassi continued, voice low, almost conversational. "There are people who don't just see you with their eyes. They sense you. And when such a gaze falls on someone sensitive…" She tapped the table lightly. "The mind opens first."
Pranati felt a faint chill crawl up her spine. "You're scaring me for no reason."
"I'm not trying to scare you," Jassi said calmly. "I'm telling you what my grandmother told me."
She leaned closer. "She said the evil eye doesn't show itself immediately. First come the dreams. Crumbling places. Running. Death. Because the mind is being prepared… taught how to recognize danger."
Pranati swallowed. "Prepared for what?"
Jassi held her gaze. "For a truth the person is not yet ready to face."
The room felt suddenly too quiet.
Pranati pushed her plate away slightly. "Enough, Mom. This is nonsense. Dreams are just dreams."
Jassi leaned back, masking her intensity, the warmth returning to her tone as if she hadn't said anything unsettling at all. "Of course, beta. I'm old-fashioned. You young people don't believe in these things."
She picked up her phone, glancing at it briefly.
"But still…" she added lightly, almost as an afterthought, "tell your friend to be careful. Not every gaze can be seen."
Pranati forced a smile, though her appetite had vanished.
Somehow, the food no longer tasted warm.
And the dreams no longer felt harmless.
Jassi set down her spoon and shook her head lightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Beta, why are we even sitting here talking about the evil eye? There's something else I need to tell you."
Pranati's curiosity flickered, but before she could respond, a soft beep came from her phone. She glanced down, eyes widening slightly as she realized the date.
Her chest tightened with a quiet, sacred anticipation. It was that day—the day she always kept to herself. The day she visited the temple, a secret ritual she performed every year. She had never met her biological parents, never seen them, yet she prayed silently that they found peace wherever they were.
A calm resolve settled over her as she took a deep breath. She looked up at Jassi, smiling faintly. "Thanks, Mom… for the food. But I have somewhere important to be."
With that, she picked up her bag, slipped the scooter keys into her pocket, and headed toward the door, the soft morning light spilling across the room as she stepped outside, carrying both her quiet fear and her unwavering hope.
Bani Dadi adjusted her shawl, her eyes softening as she looked at Arnav. "Beta, since you have to go to the office today, can you drop me off at the temple first? I have some prayers to offer."
Arnav gave a small, composed nod, his voice steady and calm. "Of course, Dadi. I'll take you there."
She settled into the car, hands folded neatly in her lap, murmuring a quiet prayer. Arnav slid into the driver's seat, his expression serene, almost unreadable. He started the car smoothly, his eyes on the road, every movement precise, measured, reflecting the calm control he always carried.
For a moment, the air was quiet, almost ordinary, but there was an undercurrent of vigilance. The recent events had not shaken his composure, but the weight of responsibility he carried was evident in the sharpness of his gaze.
The villa disappeared behind them, the city waking up under the late-morning sun, oblivious to the tension threading through the lives inside it.