Chapter 2: Signed and Sealed

Our group arrived at the builder’s office.

The place smelled of sandalwood and printer ink. The waiting area was crowded with families in their Sunday best, nervously sipping complimentary chai. Priya and her mother took the plush sofa, looking like VIP clients.

They flipped through heavy, glossy brochures—photos of perfect families, gardens that seemed unreal. Rohan and Aunty whispered about the amenities: pool, gym, temple. Their excitement filled the air.

Rohan busied himself with photos of the flat, muttering, "Yaar, my room has the best cross-ventilation!" He posted on his WhatsApp group: “Future pad!”

"This place is really nice. My room faces the garden—my girlfriend’s going to be so impressed."

I sat off to the side, palms sweaty.

The AC’s chill did little for my nerves. I wiped my hands on my jeans, heart pounding as I mentally checked my loan documents.

The sales lady approached, sari crisp and bindi perfect. She handed me a paper cup. The chai was scalding, with too much elaichi—just like the free tea at government offices, more for show than comfort. She smiled, “Namaste, sir.”

"Mr. Arjun, the agreement is ready. Please come take a look."

I stood and reached for Priya. My hand trembled, but she gripped it tight, nails pressing into my skin as if staking her claim.

"Come on, let’s go sign the agreement."

Priya nodded, holding my arm, resting her head on my shoulder. Her hair brushed my neck, bringing back the memory of Marine Drive, sunset, years ago.

"Sweetheart, we’re finally getting our own place. You’ve worked so hard!"

Her praise warmed me, making the past two years feel almost worth it.

The sales consultant, all polished smiles, laid out a thick stack of agreements with a thud that echoed in my chest. I wondered if my signature could really change my fate.

"This society currently has a special offer: the down payment can be as low as 20%, and there are extra benefits. Mr. Arjun, you’ve come at just the right time."

Aunty’s eyes lit up, clutching her purse. Rohan’s eyebrows shot up.

"Really? That means the down payment is much less?"

"Yes, if you sign now, not only is the down payment lower, but the EMI will be much more manageable."

The sales consultant opened the agreement, each move practised and reassuring.

"This is a special builder promotion—only this month."

Rohan piped up, "Sign kar, yaar! Koi aur le lega toh?"

I pretended to hesitate, picked up the agreement, frowned. "So many terms... Priya, tu hi dekh le—tu toh zyada padi likhi hai."

Priya scanned the papers, lips pursed, clearly more interested in the result than the details.

"Yeh sab down payment, EMI, loan ka hi hai na?"

The sales consultant nodded. "Yes, Ms. Sharma."

She pulled out another form. "With the special policy, only 20% down—six lakh rupees. The rest is a bank loan."

Priya’s mother leaned in, glasses slipping, scribbling numbers on an envelope.

"Beta, didn’t you say the down payment was almost ready? This amount is okay, right?"

I rubbed my hands, picturing my empty savings account. I forced a smile. "Aunty, kaafi save kiya hai, par thoda kam pad raha hai. But my friend works here—he said he can get us a special deal."

The sales consultant confirmed, "Mr. Arjun’s connection can get you the ‘Homeownership Assistance Plan.’ Down payment in installments, as long as you finish in three months."

Priya gripped my hand, eyes shining. “See, I told you, he always manages!”

"Sweetheart, why didn’t you say so earlier? Such a good policy!"

I looked down, rubbing my neck, mumbling, "Wanted to surprise you."

Her mother pushed, "Toh jaldi sign karo—flat haath se na nikal jaye!"

The consultant tapped the applicant’s name line.

"Here, we confirm the main applicant—the property will be in their name."

Before I could speak, Aunty jumped in, "Of course Priya ke naam pe hoga. Arjun, problem toh nahi hai na?"

She gave me a look that dared me to argue. Even the watchman outside paused to glance in.

I smiled, "No problem, Aunty. Shaadi hone hi wali hai. Kya farak padta hai kis naam pe hai?"

For a second, I saw myself in the glass—sacrificing, hoping love would repay me. I told myself it was just paperwork.

Aunty smiled in satisfaction, patting Priya’s arm. For a moment, I felt like I’d finally passed one of her endless tests.

The consultant handed the pen to Priya. "Miss Sharma, please sign here."

Aunty’s attitude thawed. "Arjun is reliable—knows how to take care of Priya."

She even managed a smile, as if my fate was now cemented with theirs.

After the signatures, Priya quickly scribbled her name on every page, not even glancing at the fine print. The sound of her pen was oddly final.

When all was done, the sales manager escorted us out, congratulating, "Congratulations, Miss Sharma and Mr. Arjun! You’ll be able to move in in three months!"

A garland of fresh marigolds hung at the entrance, a new beginning for some. But for me, a shadow hovered, waiting for the next move.