Car honks sounded at the gate. Samar’s car honks. Her heart stopped. He came so early? She wasn’t ready yet. Not prepared. Amaal glanced down at Yathaarth, bouncing him as she heard him park his car, the telltale click of his door and then he was there, striding up and into the house.
“Am I late?”
Amaal looked up, and into those dark eyes behind no-nonsense specs. And his eyes were already on her. They smiled. Amaal felt giddy, and still scared. She didn’t know what to do, so she wiped Yathaarth’s mouth as it drooled all over her.
“Give him here, I have to apply his gum medicine.” Iram reached for her son, who was suddenly kicking his legs to get down. Amaal deposited him on the floor and he took off like the world was on fire.
“He runs so fast.” Samar’s shocked voice reverberated. Amaal felt that voice inside her. Inside all the parts of her. What was he doing to her without even doing anything? After so much, after all that they had lived through already, after a lifetime of events, how could he make a teenage girl out of her chest?
“He rolls even faster,” Atharva quipped. Amaal couldn’t stand there with the men, not powerful enough to hear more of Samar’s voice. She strode in behind Iram. And followed her into the alley to the kitchen. She heard Yathaarth’s screams. Amaal broke into a run.
“What happened…?” She stopped, horrified.
Iram, the sweetest person she had known, was holding her baby down under her arm like a football and was pushing her fingers into his mouth as he howled.
“All done.” She smiled victoriously.
“Iram, he is sobbing!”
“Can you see tears in his eyes?” She packed up the gel one-handed.
“Look at his face,” Amaal caressed his bright red cheeks. “Oooh, baby, what happened to you?”
“Tearless sobs,” Atharva spelt out from behind her.
“Is that even a thing?” Samar asked.
“You are a doctor, how come you don’t know that?”
“I’m sorry, I did not treat toddlers on the front.”
Amaal held back a chuckle, turned away as she was from them.
“Nothing is wrong with him. He will be smiling in a moment now.” Iram ferried him into the kitchen and Atharva ushered them to the hall. They settled there, and again Amaal chose the seat farthest from Samar.
“See, good as new.” Iram came bearing her son and left him towards her open arms but he was again dashing, like a Hot Wheels car, straight into Atharva’s legs.
“When did he become a Papa’s boy?” Amaal gaped.
“He was always a Baba’s boy,” Atharva sat him up on his lap and he pushed his body into Atharva’s armpit, sucking on the ice in his mouth.
Amaal smiled at the picture they made. “It’s surreal to see you like this. I mean, I saw you become a father and all. But to see youas afather after this long gap is like seeing it for the first time.”
Atharva chuckled.
“How is everything there?” Iram asked.
“Life-wise, all is good. Work-wise,” Amaal glanced at Atharva, apologetic and also a little guilty because she was dissing her current boss. “Things could be better. But this government is hardly five months old. Law and order is one thing, but it takes time to bring things back to status quo too. The Dal Film Festival was a success last month. Did you see the photos and videos I sent you,” she asked Atharva. “You worked very hard on it and I wanted you to be the first to know that we managed to get Cannes Film Festival to cover it. Fifty-five old Indian classics were screened over three weeks. And we got more locals than tourists, which was a feat in the month of September.”
Atharva smiled.
“And how is the house?” Iram cued, though she had asked her that over their last video call. “Begumjaan told me you oversaw the last cleanup.”
“It is in top condition,” Amaal answered what she had then. “There was a short circuit in the downstairs bathroom but it’s been taken care of. Ada came to collect her certificates from your father’s house…”
“Yes. She wants to apply for an internship.”
“Isn’t she coming here after her course?”
