HINDU

About this Novel

I eased the aging Hajiya car to a gradual stop, resisting the urge to take a swig of wine. The house ahead appeared welcoming, but my heart was pounding, and I couldn't help but sneak a glance at the rearview mirror for the seventh time since I had left home. The reflection staring back at me did little to boost my confidence. I may not have the largest of eyes, but at least they usually held a sense of resolve. However, right now, my face bore no semblance of assurance. Although I had spent well over an hour and a half meticulously bathing and another thirty-five minutes carefully selecting the right attire for this pivotal visit, my apprehension was mounting. As I neared the door, my heart raced, and I examined my face in the mirror once more, this time discovering beads of sweat glistening on my forehead. Anxiety had gripped me, causing my hairline to become matted. "Take it easy," I told myself, attempting to quell my inner turmoil. "What are you so afraid of? You've been here countless times before, haven't you?" I whispered to myself. "She's beautiful and radiant, no doubt, but don't forget, you're here to see her.