Page 99 of The Circle of Exile
“You’ll burn your hand!” He pushed off the platform but she held it steady without flinching. “Where do you want to eat?”
“Here.”
“Not on the table?”
“You will leave your precious buns alone?” He waggled his eyebrows at the set she was readying.
“No way!”
“Then give me my food here,” he jumped up on the platform and began to take his cufflinks off. Iram set his plate by his side.
“Why would you go twice?”
“Once I went with my mother and then with my friends again. The college life, the friend groups, that was so much fun to watch. You know, I also bought this cassette three times because I broke one while rewinding. Ammi had a fit but Abba quietly promised to bring me a fourth one if this one broke.”
“What happened to the second cassette?” He rolled his sleeves and dug into his food, eyeing her talk so easily about the people she had not been able to call her own. The struggle inside her, the knot of mess that had lived inside her eyes, on her face, in her pauses, seemed to have unraveled. He did not dare acknowledge it, or call it out. Yet.
“The second cassette was for my walkman,” she smiled, eyes on the tray as she brushed more butter, or whatever that liquid was, on her buns. One swipe, two swipes, three swipes. And her smile wobbled. The spoonful of rice he had scooped up, halted at his mouth. Atharva set the spoon down and began to get down from the platform when that smile climbed back up. He observed, waited, then picked up his spoon again.
“If I fight my memories of them, I am fighting myself,” she went on brushing the buns, letting her words flow just as easily after that small hiccup. Her face turned to him — “If you didn’t love a child, would you buy them three cassettes of Pyaar Mein Kabhi Kabhi and promise a fourth one?”
That smile, that wisdom in brown eyes, the acceptance singing quietly behind the rubble that was built back and lit up into the most glorious city — yet again — Atharva lost his heart, his mind and his soul to her all over again.
Tauba, tumhare yeh ishaare…
The song changed. And that wisdom of her eyes was now glowing with her girlie smile. Atharva didn’t know until then that he was smiling too. So bad. So big. Goofy. Grateful. Giddy. She took her gaze down to the buns and sprinkled fistfuls of sesame. They did look good.
“Can I have one of the newly baked ones?”
“No.”
“Why?” He bit back more giddiness inside him and reached for the salad on his plate — cucumbers and onions because tomatoes were already devoured by her it seemed. “You baked them for somebody else?”
“It’s for all of you but for breakfast tomorrow. I am planning to make tofu burgers for breakfast. Lots of salad and very little carbs…”
He groaned, mixing the dal with more rice.
“Did Yathaarth sleep already?” He inquired, realising the house was quiet, as was the baby monitor.
“Begumjaan took him to her room to play with him, then she fell asleep before he did so I got him and lay him down in our room. He hasn’t made a single noise yet but then, his nappy gets ready to burst by 1 am.”
Atharva ate quietly, in peace, enjoying her giving him detailed updates on how their son was almost turning to his side and already trying to get to his stomach. He wasn’t quite there yet.
“…I have a dozen videos recorded on my mobile of him trying and falling back. At this rate, my storage will be full.” She bent down to pull the tray of baked buns and replace them with the raw ones in her hand. When she rose to her feet, her rant stopped short. “What?”
“Nothing,” he bit into a piece of cucumber and crunched. Then held the remaining piece out to her.“Want?”
She made a face and began to push back.
“Did you check if the heater was on in our room?” Atharva asked.
“Yes.”
“But is it set to auto? It starts making noise after an hour if it is not set on auto.”
“Oh yes…” she set the tray down beside him and ran. “We can’t have him waking up and partying all night!”
Atharva reached for one of the piping hot buns and set it on his plate. He stretched to grab a knife and the covered dish of butter. With quick, military precision, he sliced the bun and it opened to the most fragrant warm scent of baking. He lathered it lightly with some butter and closed his mouth around it. There, now she wouldn’t be able to take it away from him.
