“I can’t see.”
“I also wanna see!” Yathaarth’s tiny voice piped up.
“Hey!” Atharva cupped his cheeks. “You went to sleep.”
“No sleep! Seepover night!” He jumped up to his feet and ran. “Noona, we show Amaal tunnel!”
Noora who had never learnt how to follow orders, got to his feet instantly and ran after him — “I am the leader, Artha, let me be in front!”
“Why did you wake him up?” Iram scolded Atharva. “Now he’s had his nap and it’s all night.”
“But I didn’t wake him up, Amaal did.”
“What did I do?”
“You said ‘I can’t see,’” Iram poked. Amaal said something back and they got into one of their banters.
“Listen.” Samar leaned close to Atharva. “This Arundhati star is shown after marriage, no? On the night of the wedding, I mean.”
“I’ve heard it is, yes,” Atharva answered, looking at him solemnly.
“How did you say to spot it?”
“I didn’t say it.” Atharva deadpanned. “Why do you need to know?”
Samar narrowed his eyes at him. Atharva stared back.
“You tell my wife about the MMS and I will teach you how to spot Arundhati?” Atharva smirked. “And anyway, you two are still circling around each other. Get me your wedding card first and then I’ll think about it.” He picked up his guitar and thrummed the strings. “Mmm… hmmm…”
Samar heard the depth of his voice after ages.
“Samar’s favourite song from our SFF days,” Atharva nodded at the ladies who had stopped fighting. “Jaania, haania… Tu vi sikh kadi, dukh sukh pholnaaa… tere bin… tere bin nahi lagda dil mera dholna.”
He strummed his strings, looking at him. Something fell back in time and Samar found his throat open up like it used to decades ago, eyes opening to the sky — “Saathiya, beliya… kacche dhaage sacche pyaar ke na todnaaa…” his throat vibrated, breaking up but opening even more clearly. “Tere bin nahi jeena mar jaana tolna… tere bin nahi jeena mar jaana tolna…”
The strings of the guitar went silent. He glanced back down, and they were gaping at him.
“Did he never tell you he sings, Amaal?” Atharva asked, stringing his guitar again. And Samar looked at the bloody politician.Fuck you.
Atharva grinned.
“Seepover taaaaime!” Yathaarth broke their session, running and crashing into Amaal’s open arms. “You me seepover Amaal.”
Amaal looked up at him and instinctively her brows went up, as if they were already married and this was both of their decision. Samar felt something warm happen inside his chest.
“No, Arth, she has to sleep, she has jet lag.” Iram scolded. “And what is thisAmaal-Amaal? She is not your age. Amaal aunty.”
“Amaal.” Amaal squeezed him and kissed his neck. “I am Amaal, and of course, I am his age. I am the youngest among this lot.”
Don’t remind me,Samar thought, seeing his one chance for tonight slip away. She was leaving for Srinagar tomorrow and then it was four months of intense travel for him and election work for her until the April 2020 Jammu-Kashmir elections, unless they married tomorrow itself. But the separation still loomed large for the foreseeable future. They had so much to talk about, so much to do tonight before they again went their separate ways one last time…
“Peeesss Amaal peees…”
“Arth, no.” His mother widened her eyes at him. And he instantly went silent. He glanced at his father, but probably got no help there. And then his eyes came to Samar. Big and innocent, his lips pouted. He blinked just once, and Samar was ready to tell him to keep Amaal tonight before he announced — “Seepover with Samaruncle!”
Before any of them could object, he was running around the fire — “Boys seepover!”
Samar stared, speechless, then barked out a laugh. He caught him and gathered him into his chest, looking first at Atharva, then at Iram.
