Page 56 of The Circle of Exile
“The third thing is bonding as a unit. Kaul sahab’s contribution in this is enormous because right now, your baby trusts his father. His father’s hand needs to be on his skin for him to get used to yours initially. Kaul sahab, you have to make him trust his mom. Snuggle together under a blanket, spend time close to each other, stay away from meltdowns. Talk each other up. Eye contact, warmth, calmness. That’s what you will need to get over feeding trauma.”
“And if it doesn’t work?” Atharva asked.
Dr. Baig didn’t lose her gumption — “Then we will try hormonal therapy.”
“Is it safe?”
She hesitated. “We need to monitor for fatigue and depression. But,” she glanced at her with an encouraging smile — “From my examination of both mom and baby, I do not see us needing it at all. The mechanics work both ways, it’s just a matter of keeping them close until they fixate, isn’t it?” She tickled Yathaarth’s forehead. His eyes began to droop. “Oh, that’s the magic spot then?”
“Yes,” Atharva laughed. “Instant sleeping pill.”
Iram didn’t know that.
“Let me not put him to sleep before he is fed. Here,” she passed him to her but Iram just tentatively held him before passing him into Atharva’s waiting palms. She did not miss his reticent expression. He looked like he hated the idea of this triad thing already.
They pushed to their feet, Dr. Baig passing files, recipes, diet charts and reports to her — “Remember, all three of you need to settle closer. The smaller the space, the cosier the environment, the calmer will be the latching.”
Iram smiled and took her leave, exiting the room, Atharva close behind her.
Physical space — however much it shrank, would it be enough to bridge the chasm that had opened up between them?
12. True love has a way of coming back…
True love has a way of coming back. She should have known. She had found it came back time and time again. She had met it at 8, then again at 18, then finally belonged to it at 29. Even then, when everything had looked impossible for them, they had snapped back to each other. If at one point she had come back, then at another — Atharva had traced his footsteps home to her. However far they had ventured from each other, the way back had always been the straightest.
This time around, it didn’t seem straight. Like she was lost in a jungle and going around in circles — no sun to guide her, no light, no signs.
Iram tipped her face up to the dark Srinagar sky. This terrace was the only thing that was just as she had left it, this sky just as clear as she had last seen it. She continued to walk, letting her feet tire themselves out. Dr. Baig had recommended walking and music. She had been walking for the better part of an hour. Music… not yet.Step by step,she told herself. The night was cool and lonely. She breathed it in, inhaling the smells of Srinagar’s autumn. Pine and burning foliage, coal kaangri and the sound of silence.
It was so quiet. Yathaarth and Begumjaan were in the hall downstairs, Atharva at work. She didn’t even know what time it was. Dinner had ended. She had stuffed herself with as much as she could from Dr. Baig’s list. Her feet reached the end of the terrace and turned around, going round and towards the opposite end.
Tiny drops of water touched her face. She slowed, squinting up at the suddenly hazy sky. The water fell harder into her face. Cold. The wind blew colder. She shivered. And felt the most alive inside. Iram stood there, gaping at the expanse of inky purple over her as the sky opened and rain began to patter. Thunder struck, and it was pouring, plastering her hair over her head. Her mouth opened, feeling droplets slip in and onto her tongue.
Lightning roared across the sky and she gaped at it, feeling this explosion of nature inside her, hoping it would jolt her back to life. She had come home, she had gotten her family back, but she was still not completely herself. She was doing everything she could, facing every pile of carnage she had left behind, brandishing herself as the only weapon left to fight a world aggrieved by her, but it was still not enough.
“Iram!”
She whirled, just in time for something heavy to land over her head and shoulders. His coat.
She met furious grey eyes and stepped back. His arm was quick to snap her back, his face drenched and dripping over hers. She opened her mouth but he led her away, running the last few steps to escape the deluge. The sudden patter of water on their heads was gone. But the haze remained. In the dry cold of the corridor, the space between them chilled. She averted her gaze.
Atharva’s hands came to the lapels of his coat, tightening them around her. She realised it then — she was soaked. Her mind and soul were already soaking. She couldn’t afford to get her body ill too. Her shoulders caved in with a shiver and he held them up. Again, their eyes clashed.
“I am sorry…” she croaked.
He blinked, damp, wet lashes fanning over tired undereyes.
“I was just walking. It started raining. I couldn't move.”
He kept staring, silent.
“I am trying very hard, Atharva…”
His gaze tore away from hers — “Go dry yourself.”
She gasped, stepping back. He did not look at her again.
Iram began to walk past him, away from him, towards their room. And she did not look at him either. It was like the forcefield around him was keeping her tethered and his eyes were pushing her away.Throwingher away. Iram reached their bedroom door and couldn’t help it. She peeped over her shoulder.
