Page 82 of A King's Oath

“Permanent shanti will only come when you marry and go!” She scowled behind her smile.

“Sorry to rain over your parade but I am never getting married, baby.’

Kaka Maharaj’s arms slipped around their shoulders — “Timeout,” he said, low. Low enough for only them to hear. Then louder, he announced — “Teach Kresha Raje and Avantika Raje to weave this now.”

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“I am fed up of your never-getting-married rant, Ava!”

“But Mummy…” Avantika stuffed a spoonful of poha into her mouth. Her last batch of good, home-cooked poha for a while. She had packed tons of sev and bhujiya but Parisian-Indian joints wouldn’t make authentic Gwailor poha like this.

“Have lunch like normal people,” her mother scolded, nodding at one of the servers to bring her the tray of curries.

“Let her eat what she wants to,” her father stepped in.

“Poha?”

“If Avantika loves poha, she will eat poha,” Kaka Maharaj announced.

“Bhau Maharaj, you have spoiled her silly. You and her father. She is not even taking Kirti with her to Paris. With this spoiled attitude, how will you survive there?”

“Like I survived boarding school,” Avantika grinned, reaching for the bowl of sev placed beside her plate. Kresha beat her to it.

“Grow up, Kresh! Gopi doesn’t want to take home a baby.”

“You are hogging poha for lunch and I am the baby? Mummy?”

“She is right,” her mother nodded. So prim.

“You can’t take her side always!”

“I am on your side, na?” Her uncle and father said at the same time. Avantika smiled, and then sat back dramatically, arms folded. Her mother sighed.

“Ok, I am going to go up and finish packing. I have to reach the airport by 4.30,” she stuffed the last of her poha into her mouth and went around the table, touching feet and hugging her Kaki, Kaka, Papa and ruffling Kresha’s hair. She snapped at her wrist, then pulled it, tugged her down and squeezed the back of her neck. Affectionately or mockingly was open for debate.

“Mummy…” she came to her mother but she got to her feet.

“Come, let me help you.”

Avantika followed her out of the dining room and up the grandiose of the residential wing staircase. There was an elevator installed but the doctor had ordered that all the elders use the stairs to keep fit. Their eating habits were very unhealthy.

“Try this out for three months,” her mother started. “And then come back home. You can enjoy the Parisian life on your own but home is home…”

“Mummy…” she caught her pallu just outside her bedroom. Her mother huffed, turning in a mix of frustration, hesitation and adoration. Avantika circled her arms around her mother’s shoulders and pushed her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut.

“You’ll miss me,” she buried her face in her mother’s shoulder.

“Not at all,” her mother’s hand came behind to pat the side of her head.

“Don’t spoil that Kresha too much.”

“You come back in three months.”

“Oh my gawwd…” Avantika came out in front of her. “I spent four years in boarding. You were happy then?”

“I wasn’t. But now that that’s done…”

“And I studied outside for four years again…”

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