Through and through

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I repeated to myself, 'I'm Agastya's man through and through."

I walked up to her, apologized for being late. I had been playing a game of Solitaire at work, trying to delay this tryst, reminding myself of the virtues of silence, gravity and iteration.

We spoke of banal topics; the weather, the cricket match, the royal wedding and of the quantity of tamarind in the perfect sambhar. We walked on.

She told me of their quarrel.

Agastya had told me about this earlier. He was guilty. It wasn't the occasional slip, he didn't get carried away the once. It was calculated. He had flirted and courted and toyed. Agastya could do that without thinking. He was guilty.

He had asked me if he should tell her all. I had asked him not to.

"Arjun. He's not lying, is he?"

I smiled and then dropped my voice to answer her question.

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