“By God woman, you’re letting in the cold air. Pull that sheet up and don’t let the air in!”, Achappa shouted furiously. “I’ve told you a gazillion times how a cold flower leaves gaps in between Pookalams!”

Achimma gave her usual loving smile and did as she was told, pulling the sheet up and tying it in place. She knew the flowers and Pookalams much better than he did. However she never argued. She had just sprinkled the tiniest bit of water on them flowers. While they kept their youth and colors for a long time, those flowers did, she had learnt from decades of having sold and taken them that the right amount of water sprinkled at the right time had a huge role to play in keeping them so.

Achappa had woken up from his doze just at that moment to catch her. She gave him that space and came back to sit, the smile never leaving her face.

Memories fueled their lives as wood fuels fire at the fireplace. Giving them warmth in the coldest of times, bringing them together huddling each other and lighting their lives in the darkest of times.

She carefully put the banana leaf on the floor and wiped it clean with her hands. The pride and joy was always so visible on her face when turning on the rusted gas stove beside their made up road side stall. It was one thing she wished for more than anything and having put her savings aside over the years, she finally bought one. She was sure someone had thrown it away and yet she lovingly cleaned it, and turned on the knob with its tick-tick.

She poured the batter onto a broken Tawa carefully so that it wouldn’t spill. The appams had to be really soft since Achappa had very few teeth left – which to her made his smile sweeter and sweeter. The Appams were a luxury but she knew it was his favorite and hence took great pride in lovingly making them as soft as she can, yet baked well.

Last night’s rain had drenched the sheets a little. The Veranda of the unused shop they had chosen to spend night on didn’t have a proper shade that was long enough to prevent the rain with the wind. Hence she put a broken cardboard piece in front of the Banana leaf for him to sit.

What was coming next is what all of this meant to her. Appams were his favorite. His favorite meant his happiness. His happiness meant him talking. Him talking meant their memories.

She always waited though. Never did she eat until he started. He cut a small piece of the Appam with his frail fingers and slowly dipped it in the chutney. He put it in his mouth and started chewing. She smiled for she could see his face lighting up, a deep breath, the slow movement of his adam’s apple swallowing the saliva little by little enjoying every chew.

“Remember that time when the bus driver argued Ooty was in Kerala?”

Both of them were lost in each other at that point. Smiling & laughing, chewing & talking, shoving & hitting – the sun shone on them through the clouds and leaves making the world bright and shining around them.

“How much for them?”, the question cut short their private time.

They were oblivious to Kareem watching them from the tea stall across the street on his way back from Fajr prayers.

Achappa jumped up from his place. “‘morning sir. 50 rupees per Mozham (cubit) sir”, he said swallowing whatever he was chewing and wiping his mouth clean. They hadn’t removed the sheet from the flower stall yet and hence were sure that it wasn’t time yet for business. He gestured in a hurry to his wife who followed suit, jumped up and removed the sheet for Kareem to see them.

Neither did Kareem know their thoughts nor did they know his. He had felt a certain sense of peace and happiness watching them and that had lured him there. He went across with just the intention of being close to them but had quickly realised how weird it would be just standing close to them and staring. Hence why he was quick to notice their goods and ask the price. Money was not something he lacked, for notifications were galore on his phone about his investments and stocks going up.

“You see”, started Kareem. “It is a special day today as you know. There’s an event happening and I was worried about not having the time to get and buy enough. You seem to have a good enough stock. Mind if I buy it? I am sure you can give a discount for a big purchase”, he ended with a laugh waving his hands and nodding his head to show he was joking.

It took a moment for the couples to realise what Kareem was asking. Achimma stared at Achappa for a moment, a moment that he really needed to compose himself.

“Uh.. Yes.. ah yes”, he stammered. “How much exactly sir?” He knew the answer, but he asked anyway.

“All of it”, replied Kareem.

Since they bought the stock wholesale, they didn’t know how many cubits they had. Both of them jumped and started winding it around their arms counting, finally finishing the process in around 10 minutes during which Kareem took care not to bother them, but looked at their things, the banana leaf, the stove, the blanket, and got lost in thought. They scrambled to find what to put the entire thing into and finally settled for the sack they carry around. Shoving it all in, they handed it over to Kareem with a smile, who very respectfully took it from them, paid them, bid goodbye and went over on ahead to his car across the street.

Kareem saw from his driver’s seat the couple counting the money and Achappa doing the “told you so” gesture. He drove towards the eco street beside his home and parked the car near it. Taking out the bag, he carried it and walked the street’s length. Some of the houses weren’t awake and some of them were, with the kids already starting to put the Pookalam in front.

With some of them, he sat a while helping them with finishing it, contributing a bunch of flowers from his sack. With others, he nicely wrapped a bunch and left them as gifts at their doorstep. He distributed all but one flower in such fashion, becoming a part of their happiness, lending a helping hand and feeling the joy of it.

The last one flower, the one that remained from the whole of what he brought from Achappa and Achimma – he sat with it for a while near that stream that flowed near the street. He held it carefully. He held it lovingly. He looked at it caringly. He smiled. He felt the tears swelling inside him. He dreamed. He wished.

He took it to his wife.