l

Lisa had landed at Kochi airport several times before, but never with such despondency or urgency. As the seatbelt signs came on and the cabin lights dimmed, the crew hurried to their seats in preparation for landing. The plane bumped through rain-laden monsoon clouds, and Lisa gazed out the window at the twinkling lights of Kochi drawing closer. The aircraft touched down with a screeching swoosh as rubber met tarmac, spraying fine droplets in its wake.
A wave of anxiety washed over Lisa as the plane taxied to the terminal. Her friend Sudha had agreed to pick her up. Normally, on work trips, she would have stayed at a hotel. But this time was different. She was hoping to see Bharathan one last time before he was consigned to the flames.
Sudha, a practicing lawyer at the Kerala High Court, had been Lisa’s classmate and friend—a part of their vibrant gang, which included Bharathan. She had been there the day Bharathan told Lisa he was getting engaged. While Sudha looked shocked, Lisa had known it was inevitable. Bharathan had hinted that his mother and uncle would never accept her. His father, Vasudevan Nair, had met Lisa and had no objections, but his mother and maternal uncle held sway over such decisions. His uncle, the last vestige of a matrilineal system still dominant in many Nair households, had already decided that Bharathan would marry Chitra, his own friend’s daughter. His father, a senior bank manager in another state, had been ignored.
*******************
Sudha greeted Lisa at the arrival area. Lisa had taken the last available midnight flight from Mumbai, which had been further delayed. She felt guilty for keeping Sudha and her husband, Arun, waiting for nearly three hours. Arun took her overnight bag, and they quickly walked to the parking area under a light drizzle. As the car sped through the deserted roads toward Sudha’s home, dawn began to break.
“The cremation is at 10 AM,” Sudha said. “They’ll bring the body home from the mortuary at 8:30 and keep it there for an hour.”
Turning in her seat, Sudha asked, “Did you know he was unwell?”
Lisa nodded. She had known. Bharathan had remained in touch with her even after his marriage. Their first meeting post-wedding had been eight years later, at an airport. Lisa, by then settled in Mumbai and working in the legal department of a multinational company, had been on an overseas trip with her husband, Thomas. Bharathan was accompanied with Chitra and their two young daughters. He had introduced Lisa to Chitra as a former classmate, but Chitra had immediately recognized her as the ‘Nazrani girl’ with whom Bharathan had once been infatuated—an affair his uncle had downplayed before the wedding.
As they exchanged pleasantries, Chitra noticed the way Lisa and Bharathan looked at each other, sensing an unspoken connection. On the flight afterward, she remained cold and silent. Bharathan knew why. Over the years, Lisa and Bharathan met formally during class reunions and mutual friends’ family gatherings. Though their interactions were polite, there was an underlying tenderness—hardly perceptible, yet women always sensed it. When their daughters’ weddings came, Chitra had made sure Lisa wasn’t invited.
********************
Now, Bharathan was gone.
They reached Sudha’s house in Aluva. Sudha had already informed Lisa that neither she nor Arun would attend the funeral—they had visited Bharathan in the hospital the previous day, knowing the end was near. Sudha had immediately called Lisa with the news, prompting Lisa to catch the first available flight.
Sudha called an Uber for Lisa. “Bharathan’s house is in the southern part of Kochi. It’ll take over an hour. You should hurry.”
After a quick wash and a light breakfast, Lisa got into the Uber, but the morning traffic was relentless. Every junction was chaotic. She kept glancing at her watch, growing anxious. “I need to be there before 9:30,” she urged the driver, fidgeting as the car honked and swerved through the congestion.
By the time she reached Bharathan’s gated community, she knew it was too late. As she approached the elegant house, she noticed the scattered flowers outside the gate—a telltale sign. Checking her phone for the location, she confirmed she was at the right place.
Lisa pressed the doorbell tentatively. A minute passed. Just as she was about to turn away, she heard the latch click. Chitra, dressed in a white sari, stood framed in the doorway.
Lisa hesitated. “I came this morning… I was at Sudha’s—”
“I know,” Chitra interrupted softly. “They’ve all gone to the crematorium.” Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “Come in.”
Lisa stepped inside. “I think I missed seeing him,” she said quietly.
Chitra sighed. “I’m sorry. They left earlier than planned. Sudha called to say you were on the way, but Bharathan’s uncle insisted they leave early to avoid traffic.”
“You didn’t go?” Lisa asked.
Chitra shook her head. “Women don’t traditionally attend the cremation.”
They sat across from each other in awkward silence. Lisa’s eyes drifted to Bharathan’s garlanded photo. He looked older than she remembered. He had kept her updated about his illness through messages. His last one had been bittersweet—expressing gratitude for his supportive wife, acknowledging his past, and ending with a simple ‘Sorry’ followed by a heart emoji.
“Is your family still in Mumbai?” Chitra asked after a long pause.
Lisa swallowed. “Kind of. You remember my husband, Thomas? He was a well-known cardiologist… He passed away a few months ago. A heart attack. We had no children. I live alone now.” Her voice wavered as she fought back tears.
Chitra looked down. She didn’t reply. She wanted to say sorry. It probably would have been inappropriative.
Lisa stood abruptly. “I should go. The Uber driver is waiting.”
Chitra stood too. As Lisa reached the gate, she heard Chitra clear her throat.
“Can I have your phone number?” she asked hesitantly.
Lisa was surprised. She took out her phone and dialed the number Chitra gave her.
“I’ll send you a missed call,” Lisa said.
Chitra’s phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen. “Thanks,” she murmured. “I’ll keep in touch.”
Lisa nodded, stepping into the taxi. Chitra stood at the gate, watching the car disappear down the tree-lined avenue. She knew she had just made a new friend.