Page 250 of The Circle of Exile
“What is almost?” Atharva asked, coming down, rubbing his eyes.
“I mean, I can’t remember.”
Atharva stilled on the second-last stair, eyes on him — “Tell me you will pass.”
“With a glow up and all,” Daniyal grinned. “Bhabhi, no sugar…”
“Why?” She paused, the spoon poised over his cup of water and coffee.
“I am going off sugar and joining Atharva Bhai’s gym today after my exam.”
“You haven’t put on any weight, Dani…”
He shrugged.
“It’s to make muscles and impress girls,” Atharva bounded down the last two stairs, rumpled in his tracks and T-shirt.
“You impressed Bhabhi, now it’s my turn.”
“I was not impressed by his muscles,” Iram frothed the coffee. She didn’t wait for Atharva’s snort, or his gestures. She knew what they would be. She glanced up to grab the milk and caught it.
…couldn’t stop staring.
She stared athimnow.
“Where is Shiva?” He changed the topic like the expert he was.
“Gone for a morning walk.”
“Shiva goes on morning walks? Since when?” He reached for the newspaper on the platform and switched on the panel light over the dining table, glancing at her cup. She had already made her lemon water. Usually, he was the one to do it as she readied his coffee.
“It seems everybody is out for healthier living,” Iram handed Daniyal his coffee and grabbed another cup for Atharva. They had decided that she would make his morning coffee, orshehad decided it and decreed it so that then she could alternate sugar and jaggery as per her mood. She started to reach for the bottle of grinds when the jar of green tea leaves caught her eye. Noora had brought it from his last trip to Kashmir.
“Atharva?”
“Hmm?”
“Want kahwa today?”
Grey eyes behind those glasses whirled up to hers. Daniyal was sipping his coffee quietly. She shrugged — “It just feels like it.”
His mouth tightened. But he nodded.
“With jaggery,” she plucked the jar of tea leaves.
“Then give it to Daniyal only.”
The poor boy was left sputtering his coffee. Her husband kept reading his newspaper.
————————————————————
Those few precious minutes of his morning were all he had to himself. And even those were his only when he was home. Waking up, watching the sunrise, seeing his son sleep, bantering with his wife as he had his coffee and she had her lemon water, glancing through the newspaper.
Post that, Atharva had nothing but calls. At least, when he was in Shimla. If Vikram was around, they would meet in the outhouse. Since he was in Jammu & Kashmir and had been there on and off for the last few months, Atharva had been cooped up in the observatory all day. He didn’t even realise when Shiva had brought and taken back his lunch. Just that he had eaten something at noon.
“…the student wing can go national, Atharva Bhaiji. Delhi can be next.”
“I agree, but for now, we are holding onto the current ground we have covered.”
