Page 135 of The Circle of Exile
Hari Om! Hari Om! Go find yourself the best Qalaqand there and celebrate the birth of my son. Don’t ask for money, you are an uncle now so it’s your duty to feed Qalaqand to all of Scotland.
He was born on the morning of 18th January and Elena and him are both fine, as you can see in the photograph. His rashi is Mesh and Babuji suggested we name him Atharva. Elena wasn’t too comfortable pronouncing it but after a few attempts she got it right. It took her seven days to accept that she liked the name, then another ten to admit that she wants it for our son. Mouji loves it, because she says it places him in line to attain Swarg. A-tharva; the one without sin. I hope this boy one day achieves Swarg. Holding him, putting him to sleep, just looking at him you realise that you would do multiple circuits of Patal Lok just for your child to get a glimpse of Swarg Lok. It’s like you don’t have a reason to love your child, he just came into the world after all! But that’s love, no? Without reason.
I hope you get to experience this joy soon, Hari. It will transform your life.
I have taken an extended leave to take care of Elena and Atharva, but I will have to report back by February-end. Elena wants me to take peace-time posting in Srinagar or discharge honourably. I cannot do the latter, but I am trying to get the former. She is alone in a new place with a new baby, I understand her concerns. Mouji asked her to come to her house but Elena is used to independent living. She will not be comfortable in a joint-family home. These concerns do trouble me on and off, but that’s life. We have to solve problems and move on. If we think too much about them, then they become mountains.
That’s all from my side. You tell me how is your research going? Write to me about that India-England match you had tickets for. Did you get to meet Sunil Gavaskar and take his autograph? Send it to me as your congratulations on Atharva’s birth if you have!
Yours truly,
Mahendra Singh Kaul
“Apt for today,” Atharva managed, smiling at the words he had read multiple times over the years since Professor Raina had AirDropped the photos to him.
“Did you name Yathaarth for this reason too?”
“Hmm?” He tore his eyes from the letter and glanced at her.
“Yathaarth. It means the truth, isn’t it?”
Atharva swallowed. “A loose translation is ‘the truth.’ But what it really means is — just as it was supposed to be. When I named him, I did not know if I would find you again. I wouldn’t rest until I did. But if that took too long and he grew up to understand his circumstance, I wanted him to know that…”
“He is exactly what he was supposed to be.” Iram completed for him.
“Yes.”
“He is,” Iram reaffirmed. “And so are we.”
He felt the melancholy of the moment lift. Atharva smiled — “Oh, I don’t doubt that. Now can I have more of that mango milk cake?”
She burst out laughing, pushing to her feet. “Only if you are planning to eat it.”
“What else will I do with it?” He asked innocently, folding the letters neatly and pushing them inside the envelope.
“You…” She stuttered.
“I what?”
Her nostrils flared — “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. What do you mean, myani zuv?”
She opened her mouth to retort when his phone rang.
Atharva picked it up — “Altaf.”
“Sir, Momina Aslam is at the gate. I got the notification from the guards.”
“Why is she here?” He got to his feet, walking to the windows overlooking the driveway and lawn. There were lights in the distance. Headlights.
“She says she came to wish you. Should we admit her?”
“Admit her. We don’t want tomorrow’s headlines to say that the CM locked the LoP outside his house.”
Atharva ended the call and pushed it inside his tracks pocket.
“Who is coming?” Iram came to his side.
