“I am so sorry, I couldn’t pick you up,” Vihaan texted Maya. “I got terribly occupied 🥲”

“Had familial duties to perform? 👀👀,” Maya replied after a few minutes.

“Yes.”

“It is okay, I understand. Wish you’d informed me, though; I did wait for like an hour.”

“I am sorry,” Vihaan replied, and then nothing.

Vihaan just lay there on his bed, phone in his hand, mustering the will to get up but failing each time. Jyothi had been in his room twice already, asking him to get up.

He sniffed himself again. The smell was still there.

At first, it was just his hands, so he had spent most of the previous evening washing them; when he was done, he could feel the smell coming from everywhere.

Was it always like this? he thought. We just were not told because we were kids.

He checked his phone again; no text from Maya. He wanted to text back but then put his phone down.

Vihaan freshened up and went out to the veranda where the family had gathered for breakfast. Most of them were done, but Daniel was still there, just sitting and doing nothing.

“You look rough. Even for you,” Daniel remarked. “Had a bad sleep?”

“Yes, I couldn’t sleep,” Vihaan answered.

Daniel nodded, accepting it. “Big day,” he said after a moment.

Vihaan opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Yeah,” he said finally.

“I will fetch some breakfast,” he told Daniel as he stood from his seat.

He walked toward the kitchen where Malathi was pouring idli batter into all kinds of bowls she could find before letting them steam.

“Where are the idlis?” he asked her.

“They are there,” she answered, pointing at the large vessel beside her.

Vihaan opened the lid to find idlis of every shape and form, and he picked up the ones that looked the most unconventional.

“You shouldn’t be working this much,” he told his cousin. “In your condition.”

“Well, you should see your sister,” Malathi replied.

“She won’t listen.”

“And what makes you think I will?” Malathi shot back, a smirk on her face. “And I don’t find it difficult. I would’ve stopped if I did.”

Vihaan smiled back.

“What about you?” Malathi inquired. “My husband told me that you were roaming around with Maya yesterday.”

“I just found her randomly yesterday. I dropped her at school since we both were headed the same way.”

“Met her randomly, I see,” Malathi chortled as she poured batter into a bowl. “You always liked her as a kid.”

Vihaan paused awkwardly. “She… she was the only girl I wasn’t related to.”

Malathi laughed softly. “Fair enough. But just in case,” she said lightly, “she’s a really good girl. Everyone loves her. I can talk to her family if you want.”

Vihaan rolled his eyes, wishing to end the conversation at that very moment. “No,” he said quickly. “Not like that. Not interested.”

“Why not? You are getting older,” Malathi interjected. “I can see gray hair popping out on that head of yours.”

“They will pop more if you continue this conversation,” he said, already moving toward the door. “Nice idlis, though. See you later.”

As Vihaan walked toward the veranda, he pulled out his phone again. Maya had sent him a thumbs-up emoji. He gave it a thought.

Well, fuck it, he muttered to himself.

Are you at the house now? Shall I visit? Vihaan texted her. I will bring Jyothi. She would love to meet you and Dhodda.

She started typing immediately.

Dhodda isn’t home right now, she replied. But come, come! I would love to meet Jyothi 🤩🤩. Bring Daniel, too.

Great, Vihaan texted back.

“Maama won’t be happy,” Jyothi blustered as she entered the car while Daniel helped her in.

“It’s okay, I don’t think he likes much of anything,” Daniel kissed her cheek once she was settled. “And you and junior need some rest.”

Jyothi smiled. She then turned her head toward Vihaan in the driver’s seat. “How come you randomly wish to visit Dhodda’s house?”

“It’s not random,” Vihaan said as he ignited the engine. “I met Maya yesterday.” He hesitated for just a second. “I was planning to visit last evening,” he added, “but then… things got busy. I didn’t feel like staying in the house today.”

“Fair enough,” Jyothi affirmed. “But you know, I am actually excited to meet Maya again. It’s been so long.”

As they approached Maya’s house at the edge of Dombottu, Vihaan got confused with its precise location and had to gamble on a turn along the way, but he breathed a sigh of relief once he saw a familiar bricked roof.

However, once his car moved toward the outer entrance of the house, he saw them: people standing in small clusters along the road, all stopping at that exact same invisible line. No one crossed it. No one even leaned past it. A woman shifted her weight forward, caught herself, and stepped back, as if being reminded of something just in time.

They weren’t going in.

“Vihu, stop the car here. Do not go any further,” Jyothi ordered. “Don’t you remember? We can’t cross this path without permission.”

“Yes, that.” Vihaan let his foot ease off the brake. The engine idled, low and uncertain.

“Why can’t we enter?” Daniel questioned.

“It’s a strict custom,” Jyothi answered. “No one should enter this house, no matter the reason, until someone from Maya’s family invites us in.”

“Why?”

“It’s a sort of ritualistic respect,” Vihaan chimed in. “They are the original owners of Dombottu.”

“Enough now,” Jyothi said. “Vihu, maybe we should call Maya here.”

We are here, please come, Vihaan texted. Invite us.

Yeah, that. Coming ASAP.

As they sat inside their car, the bystanders looked at them like onlookers at an exhibition. Their eyes wandered between Jyothi and Daniel, but always settled on Jyothi, who had rested her head on Daniel’s shoulder. They spoke among themselves in voices that, by the time they reached Vihaan’s ears, had lost their comprehensible essence.

“Still not sure if being here is a good idea,” Jyothi murmured as she pulled her head away from her husband’s shoulder.

A few minutes later, Maya arrived. Vihaan noticed a stark difference in her attire from their previous encounter; instead of a saree, she was in an old, cream-colored T-shirt and a comfortable pair of trousers.

She raised her hand toward the bystanders, and one by one they stepped forward, dropping coins into her palm before crossing the line and disappearing inside.

When the road finally emptied, Maya looked up at them. Her eyes gleamed, a wide, easy smile spreading across her face.

“Wohoo!” she yelled. “Jyothi, so long!!!”

A sense of innocent excitement erupted in Jyothi’s eyes—a novelty since they had arrived at Dombottu.

Jyothi opened the car door, trying to get out, and Vihaan instinctively reached into his pocket. Maya noticed and shook her head, smiling.

“Not you,” she said lightly.

Before Vihaan could say anything, he found himself edged out by two women catching up on years of separation. He wanted a moment with Maya, just a few words, but the window never opened.

“How did you even meet her?” Maya questioned Daniel as the party entered the house.

The house, though quite large, felt dwarfed compared to the main residence at Dombottu. What it lacked in size, it made up for with a modern design and clean, sleek lines.

“We did our MBA together,” Daniel answered Maya. “Jyothi was my senior.”

“I was a TA,” Jyothi added. “Daniel tried to bribe me with a movie and some ice cream to accept his late submission.”

“That was smooth,” Maya jested. “As a teacher myself, I approve.”

“You know the most infuriating part,” Vihaan tried to chime in, “for almost three years, these two came to my restaurants with other friends—hung out, laughed—and none of us knew they were dating.”

“We are just good friends, is what they said,” Vihaan added. “And we all believed it.”

Maya offered a couple of chuckles at Vihaan’s tale, a response he felt was completely underwhelming. He retreated into his pit of silence.

“Hey, the kids are here,” a soft male voice intoned. “Nice to see you guys after a long time.”

“We are not kids anymore, Ravi Uncle,” Jyothi responded while holding her tummy. “Look, I am going to have my own kid soon.”

Ravi chuckled.

He was the last surviving uncle of Maya’s; in fact, he was the last of his siblings. After his sister and her husband died in a car accident, he and his mother, Sundari, had stepped in to take Maya in.

“Don’t remind me of my age,” Ravi commented. “You all are still my little kids—with an addition, I see.” He walked toward Daniel and patted him on the back. “Jyothi outdid herself with you.”

The room burst out laughing.

After Vihaan had his obligatory conversation with Ravi, he slid out of the house and stood on the porch, staring at the lush green trees in front of him. He considered walking into the garden, but the thought of someone calling him and the lack of phone reception made him shelve the idea.

He just stood there, reminiscing about the times Maya, Jyothi, and he had spent together playing and hanging out. As a kid, those times felt endless—a never-ending pool of trees he often fantasized about escaping into with no intention of returning.

He was broken out of his trance when his view was obstructed by one of the previous bystanders. The man was walking around the property; Vihaan watched him for a while as he was followed by the rest of his peers, one by one, walking in a straight line.

They are circumambulating the house! Vihaan realized.

And it did not stop with one; they were doing it again and again in an almost frantic fashion. There was a little boy, too—one Vihaan hadn’t noticed earlier among the bystanders. He was slower than the others but equally diligent in his efforts.

Vihaan fixed his gaze on the kid, although not really looking; he was submerging himself in his own pool of thoughts.

But then the kid looked back at him. He smiled.

Vihaan was unable to read the boy’s features. Every time he tried, the previous night’s insomnia punished him with blurry vision. Unaware of any other recourse, Vihaan raised his hand and waved at the kid. He forced a smile.

“Who are you waving at?” Maya’s voice echoed in his ears. She was standing just behind him; he hadn’t noticed her.

Vihaan broke out of his sleepy trance, only to realize that the kid was long gone.

“No one,” Vihaan answered.

“God, you look terrible,” Maya remarked. “Did not sleep?”

“No,” Vihaan affirmed.

“Here, I got you coffee,” Maya offered him a cup that was releasing a puff of hot white steam, enough to blur his glasses.

“It’s too hot,” he blurted out.

“Oh, yeah.”

Maya picked up another cup and started pouring the coffee back and forth to cool it, periodically blowing on it. She repeated the process several times.

“I am sorry about yesterday,” Vihaan apologized. “I feel terribly bad.”

“Well, you should,” Maya replied with a mischievous smirk. “But I accept your apology, only because you brought Jyothi here today.”

“Thank you,” Vihaan replied with a smile.

“You coming to the Kola tonight?” Vihaan broke the ensuing silence.

“Do I have a choice?” Maya shot back.

“Fair enough.”

“Why are those people circumambulating the house?” Vihaan questioned. “Never seen that before.”

“Oh, that. It started just after you left Dombottu,” Maya answered while still holding the cups. “After Santhosh Maama’s death, the villagers assumed one of the ways they can appease Kesanna is by treating our house as a shrine.”

“Probably that way they could escape being picked during the areca nut ritual,” she added. “It is quite annoying, but it provides some peace to the villagers, so we let it happen. To their credit, there hasn’t been such an incident since.”

“I thought they treated it as a blessing,” Vihaan couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Why are they trying to prevent that fate now?”

“Some consider it a blessing,” Maya said, offering the cup to Vihaan now that she was done regulating the temperature. “You should realize not everyone is a fanatic in this village.”

“Some just follow the custom because they were taught to do so,” she added.

Vihaan nodded. He raised his hand to take the cup from Maya, but then he felt a bit awry. It bore a strong coffee scent—enough to snap Vihaan out of his sleepy trance—and yet, within it, he could smell it: the raw, unpasteurized milk.

“I do not want to drink it,” Vihaan said. “Coffee makes my teeth hurt.”

Maya shot a cold stare at Vihaan, partly due to his blatant rejection of her efforts. “You know the rule, Vihaan. You can never deny whatever this house offers. Drink it.”

Vihaan picked up the cup and tried to take a sip. As he brought the coffee close to his mouth, the caffeinated aroma intensified, numbing his olfactory senses. Yet he could still feel the sensation of that ivory-colored milk trapped within the hairs of his nostrils.

“What happened?” Maya inquired. “Is the coffee that repulsive?”

“No, no,” Vihaan clarified. “It is not the coffee.”

“Then what is it?” Maya looked at him with a hint of concern. “It seems like you have encountered a ghost.”

“Maya, did you know?” Vihaan asked. “About using human milk for the Kola. Did you know?”

Maya didn’t say anything for a while. She stared at him with slight confusion, which faded into a look of subtle relief. “You didn’t know until now, did you?”

“No,” he answered.

She laughed. “Do not worry, that’s cow milk.” She gave it more thought. “But I understand. Just give it a sip for the custom’s sake. That’s enough.”

Vihaan took a sip and gave the cup back to Maya. She placed it at the edge of the porch.

“You always knew about it?” he questioned her.

“Yes, everybody knows. You were just ignorant enough never to notice,” she replied. “As kids, Jyothi and I used to giggle about it. There’s a reason why we always avoided going out during Kolas.”

“That’s disgusting,” Vihaan shot back.

“Disgusting? Yes, very much so,” Maya said. “But you should see where it all comes from.”

“Canonically, Kesanna is a baby,” Maya added. “So this is what they give him.”

“But all of this—it seems pretty exploitative,” Vihaan remarked.

“Yes,” she affirmed. “But I don’t think anyone who is offering it feels that way… for the most part. It’s bad, Vihaan, but it’s Dombottu. We live here.”

Vihaan did not respond; he looked around and stared at the coffee cup again.

“Do you ever wonder if Dhodda’s eldest had survived?” Vihaan asked. “How do you think it would be if Kesanna had lived?”

“You would have had one hell of an uncle,” he added.

“He is still one hell of an uncle,” Maya answered. “But I have a feeling if he were alive, I would have hated him.” Maya paused for a moment. “But never mind. We don’t choose our family.”

Glossary

1. Dhodda -> Tulu term of endearment for grandma.

Lore

Maya – Family Tree (Sundari Lineage)

• Sundari (Matriarch)

  • Unnamed Eldest Son (Eldest son;)

  • Santhosh (Second son; deceased in his early 30s)

  • Laxmi (Eldest daughter; lineage bearer; deceased in a car accident)

    • Maya (Eldest daughter; School teacher; A close friend of Dombottu kids)

  • Ravi (Youngest son; An old bachelor; Patriarch)