In the four years that I have lived here, I have never seen them happy. They didn’t seem unhappy either. They were just okay, I guess.
They were the kind of couple that liked routine. Every morning, Raj and Kanika had tea together, perched on metal chairs in the middle of the sprawling lawn, their backs to the line of potted chrysanthemums behind which stood their enormous bungalow. When Raj returned home from work around 8pm, they had a quiet dinner together at the eight-seater teak dining table.