Morning found Asoka already on her feet, the shop door half open, the scent of grain and dried herbs mixing with the cool air. She moved between shelves with practiced ease, counting bundles, straightening jars, and tying loose cords. Customers came and went in short intervals—farmers needing salt, women seeking oil, a messenger passing through with little more than a nod.
Asoka locked her door and set out with her baskets balanced carefully at her sides, she had some errands to do and they where a lot,The road to the market had begun to swell with life—women walking in small groups, boys driving goats ahead of them, merchants calling greetings as they passed. Dust rose underfoot, clinging to hems and sandals alike.
Asoka had just passed the bend where the road widened toward the market when she heard her name spoken twice—first in a calling voice, then in laughter.
"Asoka—wait!"
She slowed, already smiling before she turned.
Eliza came up beside her, slightly breathless, her basket swinging from one arm. Behind her walked another girl, taller, more composed, her steps careful as though she was still learning the road.
"You walk as if the sun owes you money," Eliza said.
"As if you do not," Asoka replied. "You are late."
"We were not late," Eliza said. "You were early."
The other girl inclined her head politely. "You must be Asoka."
Asoka returned the gesture. "And you are?"
"Soha," the girl said. "Eliza's cousin."
"Oh," Asoka said. "Then you must be among those who had returned."
"So it seems," Soha replied.
Eliza linked her arm through Asoka's without asking. "She has been back for three days and already the older women are counting how she walks."
(The "m'boke" or "being in hiding" was a season where young girls within a certain age, would be taken into the church to serve, although the village did not fully permit it, because they rather prefered their own traditional beliefs, but they had done it to cover for most of the amount offered to the church, and after the girls had returned, they where seen as polished women under their parents consent)
"I walk the same as before," Soha said.
"They say that," Eliza continued, "about everyone who comes back from the m'boke."
Asoka glanced at Soha. "Was it… very different?"
Soha considered. "Quieter than this road. Louder than one's thoughts."
Eliza laughed. "You see? Polished."
They walked on together, the road busy with others heading toward the market. Asoka adjusted the basket on her head.
"So," Eliza said, too casually, "how was the festival after I lost you?"
Asoka raised an eyebrow. "You did not lose me."
"I turned to look for you," Eliza said. " and you were not there."
"That is not the same thing."
"So," Eliza repeated, "how was it?"
Asoka hesitated. "Crowded."
"And?"
"And loud."
"And?" Eliza pressed.
"And I met someone," Asoka said quickly, as if to be done with it.
Soha looked over. "You did?, when, how?" Eliza asked curiously.
"It was nothing," Asoka said at once.
Eliza stopped walking. "Hmm, nothing does not meet people."
Asoka sighed. "I was trying to find you."
"And instead you found a man."
"I only asked him for directions"
Eliza grinned. "From a man?"
Soha's lips curved faintly. "That still counts."
They resumed walking.
"Eliza," Asoka said, "you promised you would not start."
"I promised nothing of the sort," Eliza replied. "What was his name?"
Asoka shifted the basket again. "Why does it matter?"
"Because you remember it," Eliza said.
Soha nodded. "Names stay."
Asoka gave in. "Tristan."
Eliza stopped again. "That is a country name."
"It is just a name," Asoka insisted.
"So was yours," Eliza said. "Once."
Soha studied Asoka. "Did he speak much?"
"He spoke enough."
Eliza laughed. "That means yes."
"He spoke politely," Asoka said. "He helped. That was all."
"And did he look at you?" Eliza asked.
Asoka frowned. "People look at people."
"That is not an answer."
Soha interrupted gently. "Eliza, leave her some dignity."
"I am giving her attention," Eliza replied. "She rarely gets it."
Asoka nudged her. "You are impossible."
"And you are avoiding," Eliza said cheerfully.
They reached the first stalls. Eliza wandered toward bolts of cloth, pulling both girls with her.
"Oh," she said, touching a deep blue fabric. "This would suit you."
Asoka shook her head. "I do not need cloth."
"You do," Eliza said. "Everyone does."
Soha examined the weave. "This is new."
"From beyond the hills," the merchant said proudly.
Eliza leaned closer to Asoka. "If the man returns, you should not pretend he never existed."
Asoka muttered, "I intend to forget him."
"Soha," Eliza said, "hear that?"
"I hear resolve," Soha said. "It rarely lasts."
Asoka laughed despite herself. "You are all terrible."
"And you love us," Eliza replied.
They moved through the market slowly, stopping often, talking more than buying. Eliza spoke of her engagement without heaviness—how the man was young and handsome, his house was near the roads, how she would be leaving the day after tomorrow, and that she would not be alone.
"You look sad," she told Asoka at one point.
"I am not." Asoka had replied back
"You are," Eliza said. "But you always are when you think you should be happy for someone."
Asoka said quietly, "I am happy for you"
"I know," Eliza replied. "That is why you look like that."
Soha touched Asoka's arm. "You will be missed"
Asoka swallowed. "You speak as though I am already alone, don't worry about me too much"
Eliza smiled. "You are not alone.. and how should I not worry?"
They parted at the far end of the market, promises exchanged lightly, laughter lingering.
Asoka continued on her way, baskets fuller, steps slower, she guessed it was farewell, she was going to miss her.. "Be well all your days" she said her quiet remarks