Page 139 of The Circle of Exile
Atharva nodded, letting him ready his plate and set it in front of him.
“Madam has also sent this box and asked to serve you after lunch.”
“What is it?”
Ashraf opened the small plastic container. “Looks like cake, but it has spoiled or what? It’s so watery…”
“It’s a milk cake. It’s ok. Set it here. Thank you, Ashraf.”
Atharva picked up his spoon and pushed it inside the gooey, creamy mess that was Iram’s scrumptious mango milk cake.
“Madam said after lunch.”
“Madam is not here,” he closed his mouth around the tiny bite, looking at an amused Ashraf leaving his office and closing the door behind him. Atharva sighed. His mood was slowly picking up, first with the meeting with the AG, and now with this cake. Today his entire staff was enjoying a dessert thanks to Singh sir’s son. And Atharva thought about the generational shift. At this rate, he would have to distribute gold coins if Yathaarth passed midterms in primary school.
That reminded him. He reached for his phone and pulled up Qureshi’s number.
“Hello?”
“Daniyal’s prelim results came?”
Qureshi laughed. “No salam, no dua, straight to results?”
Atharva reached for his roti, breaking a piece and dipping it in the white gravy he did not even check the taste for. It smelled good, and he popped it in his mouth. It was delicious, whatever it was.
“I recalled it just now. So?”
“He got a 91% overall, 93 best of five.”
“That’s amazing!”
“He is not even among the top 100 in his batch.”
“What? Why? Are kids scoring 101 out of 100 nowadays?”
“Something like that,” Qureshi grunted. “I just finished with him over the phone. He has tanked in Science and Maths, both significant subjects.”
“As if his father knew how to wire a transistor on Nathula Pass.”
“His fathergotenough marks to make it there.”
“93 is not bad at all, Qureshi. You have to know how bright he is. Just a typical boy.”
“I was not like him. I was meticulous, always knowing the next five steps. How will I make him responsible? He is an adult and still acts like a stubborn child. Maha is better on most days.”
“Relax,” Atharva finished his food and got up to wash his hands. “It’s a clash of personalities. You are not the first father-son pair to have it.”
“Maybe not. I hope you have it easy with yours.”
“I am not even thinking that far ahead,” Atharva slotted his mobile between ear and shoulder, washing his hands. “Listen, I remembered you asked me to tea at your office in Vidhan Sabha. We didn’t get to come around to that.”
“It was nothing special. Just a chat.”
“What about?” Atharva shut the door of the ensuite and took a few steps up and down his office. Acid reflux was a real thing in his world now if he did not work his food off immediately.
“The running of Vidhan Sabha. You are absent more often than not…”
“You know these last few months I had to take those breaks,” Atharva strolled up and down his long office, the sun streaming heavily through the windows. “I have kept on top of things. There hasn’t been any untoward incident.”
