Radhika looked at him. He had kind eyes and did not smell of overpriced cologne. She took the flower and tucked it into her bun.

He handed her the jasmine. “I know a good teashop near the Varadharaja Perumal temple. They play only Tyagaraja kritis. No remixes.”

The problem was the item number .

“No,” Radhika replied, adjusting her pallu . “It was a statement.”