The Aranthad household fell into silence after the gathering dispersed. The weight of loss lingered, and the wound of deceit had reopened.
Rithanya sat quietly in the backyard verandah, leaning against a pillar, her mind searching for answers—answers that slipped away each time she came close.
Why did her father involve her in the deceit?
If he was a betrayer, he could have chosen a wealthy friend… or a relative.
Why… her? Why her home?
The soothsayer’s words rose again, coiling around her thoughts:
“The golden bird will fly from its cage,
with truth concealed within.
The ruthless flames will hunt it down,
washing away the grin.
The suffocating truth will emerge from the green woods,
only to expose the true colors.
Some will flourish, others will perish,
shaking the very base of many pillars.”
She clenched her fingers, forcing her thoughts into place.
Gold… the jewellery.
The golden bird… was it the truth hidden within the ornaments? Or someone carrying it?
Flames… the fire test, exposing the fake jewels… illusions reduced to ash.
Her jaw tightened.
Washing away the grin…
Those smiles—so confident, so untouchable—had vanished in an instant.
She was on the verge of understanding.
For a brief moment, clarity flickered.
And just as quickly, it slipped away.
Her breath slowed as her thoughts aligned, piece by piece.
Then…
Her brows furrowed.
The suffocating truth from the green woods…
Something hidden. Untouched. Waiting.
Not everything had been revealed.
A chill ran down her spine.
The truth hadn’t ended with the fire.
It had only begun.
Only to expose the true colors…
Not just deception.
People.
Faces she had trusted.
Some will flourish… others will perish…
Her heartbeat quickened.
This wasn’t just about exposure.
It was about consequences.
About survival.
Shaking the base…
Her eyes widened slightly.
Pillars…
The family?
The fake business?
Her thoughts spiralled beyond her control.
If the bird tried to escape… and was hunted down—
Then what was the cage?
A house?
A relationship?
A carefully built lie… now trapping them all?
Her breath hitched.
Was her father truly guilty…
—or trapped?
Framed?
Blackmailed?
Was her stepmother really as innocent as she appears…
—or just another keeper of the cage?
Maybe he had tried to escape.
Maybe he failed.
Who was hunting him?
Nothing made sense. The pieces of the puzzle seemed to vanish just as she reached for them.
Meanwhile, the evening carried its own significance in the Aranthad household.
It was Thursday.
A long-standing tradition—every week, the women gathered in the backyard verandah for evening tea. A rare, unguarded time when hierarchies softened—when mother-in-law and daughter-in-law spoke as individuals.
They shared worries, laughter… and sometimes, quiet gossip.
The men, as always, stayed away, leaving the space undisturbed.
Lately, a small indulgence had been added to the ritual—masala dosa, specially brought in from a hotel. A luxury, considering women in their village rarely stepped into such places.
As usual, Raghav arrived, placed the dosa parcel on the teapoy, and turned to leave. He paused briefly—then walked away without a word.
Annapoornamma’s daughter, Prathima—heavy with child—was staying with them for her delivery.
Prathima and Avantika entered the verandah, followed by the children, Bhavani and Bhargav. Their excitement and laughter filled the verandah.
Lost in thought, Rithanya noticed none of it—
not the footsteps,
not the voices,
not even the aroma drifting through the air.
“Are we conducting the weekly get-together this week?” Vanaja asked her mother-in-law hesitantly, twisting the end of her saree pallu.
“Why not?” Annapoornamma replied, her voice firm.
“Rithanya is sitting in the verandah…” Vanaja added cautiously, her curiosity barely concealed.
Prathima and Avantika were all ears, eager to know whether Rithanya would be included.
Annapoornamma paused for a moment.
“We do not change our traditions for the sake of a traitor,” she said coldly, her decision already made.
She strode toward Rithanya and cleared her throat.
“Ahem.”
Rithanya startled and turned. She quickly stood up, adjusting her saree, her eyes finally registering the gathered women… and the unmistakable aroma in the air.
“Are you trying to eavesdrop? Can’t you see we’ve gathered here?”
“I’m sorry… I didn’t know. I didn’t notice,” Rithanya replied softly, her voice trembling.
Annapoornamma frowned.
“Oh, spare me the explanations. You never know anything, do you?”
“Now leave. Go to your room,” she said, not even glancing at the teapoy.
Without another word, Rithanya turned and walked away, her head bowed in humiliation.
As she passed the teapoy, her eyes fell on the parcels.
Six.
Only six.
The one who brought them had not considered her at all.
A familiar ache settled in her chest.
As she sat alone in her room, another memory surfaced—her stepmother bringing home sweets and snacks… and leaving her out, just the same.
It felt familiar. Painfully so.
As though she had been conditioned—trained—to endure exclusion, to swallow humiliation, and to survive in silence.
Her fingers curled slowly.
The bird tries to escape the cage… only to be hunted down.
A thought struck her—sharp and unsettling.
What if the bird never truly escaped?
Her hope of a new beginning—ruthlessly burned in the sacred fire of the wedding.
Her breath turned shallow.
Nothing had truly changed in her life.
Just a different cage.
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Author’s Note:
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