Folklore: 1

People jumping into pool of champagne. Confetti and polaroids lying on floor. Girls in their highest heels and every boy wearing the same black tuxedos. Everyone talking about war, poverty, discrimination without experiencing it and doing their part by discussing. That was my life; to stand by my father and smile. When he died, my brother, Jonathan took his place. He then owned the family estate and I was still the reflection of our family's honour. I knew one day, there would be someone else standing next to me but everything else would be same. I would be supposed to wish everyone. Smile and never share my opinions in conversations. Give heir to my husband. Complaining about my life may seem like bewailing about a piece of marble under hundred layers of mattresses but it was a sophisticated facade that opened into emptiness. It was a trap. And I was the bait.

My grandfather married an Indian woman after which his family abandoned him but due to dowry and his job, he was able to maintain his social status. My father married a Dutch woman. He, though maintained the status but lost most of the inheritance on woman and gambling. The formal resulted in my birth. Any other woman would have disowned me the second she'd come to know about my existence but not my mother. She raised me like her own child. In fact, she was my birth-mother in the world's eyes. After father's death, our condition worsened. So we sold our Bombay mansion and moved to Kochi. Mum was certain that we find a suitor for me there. We were on verge of being bankrupt but we still threw a party to all the high-class, especially English people. 

"Do we really need a party? I thought we moved here from Bombay to control our expenses." Jonathan asked mumma.

"Johnny, this party isn't a fun gathering. It is but it more than that in my eyes," mumma said. "it's an investment."

"What are you talking mum? Oh so others too invite us to their parties?!" Johnny screamed. "We can't afford this mum. you need to accept we're broke. Pappa's habits have led us here, you wanna take below than this?"

"Control your voice young man. You might be the head of the family but I'm still the your mother." mumma said in a soft voice. "Sheryl is a woman now. A beautiful one. She has your grandpappa's reputation and a reasonable dowry. If she finds a suitor with high rank, it might help us regain everything."

I was aware of the fact but I knew it was my fate. I was raised to be a wife. A perfect one. So I had no problem with that, plus my marriage was ought to be helpful for my family. Mumma dressed me for the party. A corset tight enough to interest all the eligible suitors and loose enough not to make me look like a mistress. I wore a maroon gown since mumma was particularly fond of that colour. People started coming to the house by four in the evening. I welcomed them with the broadest smile. 

The tables were set with the fanciest crockery we had. Wines older than grandfathers of many suitors were served. Crystal chandelier stood above as a sign of our wallet. And I. I stood next to Johnny with my eyes looking down, cheeks red and heart pounding like smith hammering iron. 

Mr. Swift asked me to dance with him. I agreed as mumma had taught every women must. The hall must have looked like a kaleidoscope, changing patterns with every changing dance move. But mumma didn't approve him because his rank wasn't high enough. Then Mr. Bailey asked me but mumma was skeptical of him too as he was second born. Men kept asking me to dance, I kept on agreeing but afterwards mumma would find something wrong about their inheritance or rank or....reliability. I never expected anything during that gathering, but when the gatekeeper came and told us that some 'Nishtha Batra' was at door, I think I started to believe in miracles. She was my friend form Bombay who was visiting Kochi for summers. 

She was taken it by gatekeeper after our approval. I hugged her. "I know you love me but you didn't need to throw a party for me," she joked.

"It's for others to let this be known," I replied. Neil, her brother was with her who asked me to dance. I agreed. When I returned back to mumma, she said, "No!" in a firm voice.

"Of course no! He's my friend brother." I told her and smiled.

"No because he's an Indian." mumma said. My eyes narrowed. "But we're Anglo-Indians. We're Indian too. Grandpappa married an Indian woman-"

"Because he was a man and second born. You marrying an Indian would have us lose the remaining English who talk to us." she told me while still wearing a smile but a tight jaw.

I started to feel empty. I needed fresh air. I told mumma my feet were hurting from the dance, so she allowed me a ten minute break to change my shoes while she went to attend the ladies. I left the hall to the garden where I found Nishtha. I asked her what she was doing there.

"Hiding from the ladies and men." she replied. "Ladies don't like my opinions and I don't want to hear men's opinion while I just smile."

"At least you can hide." I whispered.

"You can run away?" she asked.

"I can fly but....I don't want to Nis." I sighed. Nishtha nodded her head and took a deep breath. I repeated the same.

"I think I should go and have food. Are you coming?" she asked. I told her that I needed to change my shoes.

The corridor was dark. I could hear the music and clatter from downstairs as I was walking to my room when heard a laugh. I knew I had heard it somewhere. I turned and saw two shadows. A lady isn't supposed to be alone in dark but something made me follow the shadows. My heels were in my hands so I wouldn't make any noise. The way seemed recognized yet strange. As they opened the door of the room and light poured over their body, I realized they were two men. I stepped closer to look.

"Brother!" I cried.