Ties.

The sidewalk seemed crowded than usual- the Woman with the scar was smiling down at a litter, the mother cat feeding her kittens with trusting abandon, near her feet. Sidestepping them, she narrowly managed to avoid crashing into a particularly reckless rickshaw that swerved at the nick of time.

Checking her watch and quickening her pace, she hurried along and reached the shop.

Raman was early. The lecher was eyeing the models in the poster for brassiere. She shot him a disgusted glance and hurried over to her desk and fired up the system. Raman hovered over and asked if she wanted black tea that morning or would she prefer "sweet milk, sugar?" Shutting him down with a curt reply, she looked around the shop for Beenachechi to come along and put him in place.

Without keeping her in much agony, Beena walked in and promptly shooed Raman away with instructions to get breakfast for her. Walking over to her, Beena said, "I received a call from your friend yesterday, it seemed pretty important moley, something concerning your family. Why dont you buy a mobile now! It wouldn't have taken this long for you to know about this!" 

"It's alright chechi, I am not sure of getting a mobile now, too much pressure, anyway, was it Seema who called? May I use your phone?"

Nodding her affirmation, Beena lent her the mobile. Dialling in, she wondered what must have cropped up now and how she would wriggle her way out. Ugh, just when she was starting to breath easy!

"Hello? edi, it's me, what happened? Why did you call Beena chechi after the shop shut?"

"I understand why you wouldn't want a mobile, but WHY wouldn't you have Any source of correspondence! This was so exciting, I was almost about to come to the shop!" 

Seema's excitement made her break into a full smile, her friend would be probably breaking the news about her new assignment or even a new hobby at which she happened to be really good.

But the news Seema had numbed her into silence.

"Uncle? My Uncle called you? Where did he get your number?! Why does Amma want to see me? Isn't she done? Why won't she leave me in peace!", she cried into the phone, barely retaining composure.

" Illa, illada kanna, it's good now, she wants to meet you and apologise. And take you back" Seema almost whispered.

"I don't believe this!"

" Shh, relax, I'll just come there now."

Amma wants her back! Amma wants her to go, to the past, to the demons she ran away from.

The bitter memory of that deciding confrontation came, uncalled for, welling her up. Amma shouting that she should be grateful she was raised at all, given food and education at all, all with the resistance from family, how much she had had to bear. 

Her staring with disbelief, held accountable for having aspirations and dreams beyond what was decided for her. That was the last straw. She had dialled up Seema, packed a couple of cloths and essentials and walked away.

She remembered the days after, desperation, anger at the unfairness, contempt for her would be suitor who was trying to lure her mother by accepting reduced dowry, the frantic search for a hope for survival, Beena chechi's shop, and the Cashier's desk, her haunt for the past year- from where she applied for her correspondence M.A degree, looking out for opportunities to build herself.

And when she had barely gone to a comforting routine, her family traced her, evading all her attempts at erasing her existence. She cursed the bloody ties.

Seema was trying to calm her down, calmly explaining how Amma had changed, how vulnerable she had become, how she needed the support and how willing she was to try this new life of responsibilities and liberation.

"They will come tomorrow, you try and talk them into letting you stay? I'll also come."

She looks at Seema, tears flowing freely.

On the drive back with Seema, she notices that the Woman with the scar was now petting the kittens as the mother cat lay asleep.  The reckless trust of the animal gave her hope, caressed her storming soul.

Maybe it would work out. Maybe Amma would stand up for her, Amma would defend her against her family, argue for her freedom to build her life and live it on her terms, they would talk, she would listen and sooth her when she talked about the various taunts about the widow's foolishness and arrogance, raising a daughter! She would assuage her concerns, study and get a job with better pay, and live a life worth living, breathing freely, not bound by expectations of random people.