Page 176 of The Circle of Exile
“Won’t you eat food?”
Atharva clicked his tongue, at a loss. In that split second, Shiva shot like a bullet to the boot of the Land Rover and was pulling it open.
“Not there, the Innova behind. That’s for luggage,” Atharva called out, unable to fight this one out. He had been losing so many battles lately. This one seemed pointless. The driver of his luggage Innova got out, opening the car’s rear that had been completely flattened to pack up their household.
Noora crept up from some bush behind the car and ran up and into the driver’s seat. The driver rounded the car but he shut the door and locked it from inside.
“Noora, get out,” Atharva ordered.
“I’m driving.”
“You are not coming.”
“I am taking a transfer.”
Atharva’s mouth fell closed. Through the glass of the windshield he saw it — that rare, solemn side of the man-child. His hands were on the steering wheel, determined.
“Sir,” Altaf walked up to him and clicked his heels. He held out a bunch of keys — “Everything has been cleaned and locked. Water lines have been shut and I will shut off the mains once you leave.”
“Thank you, Altaf.”
“Are you sure you do not want security, sir?”
“I am sure. Thank you.”
“You can put in a request to get yourself covered, considering the threats coming your way.”
“They are harmless. I know the real ones from the fabricated ones. Don’t you agree?”
Altaf nodded, begrudgingly. Atharva didn’t have anything else to say to him.
“Can you have this laid safely in my car?” He handed the flag into Altaf’s arms and accepted the keys. “I will get Iram.”
————————————————————
“Iram?” He called out, taking the steps two at a time. “Iram! Myani zuv?”
“Bababaabaaa…” he followed the babbles of Yathaarth into his grandfather’s gramophone room. Iram was on the floor, manically packing the records into a cardboard box. The other two boxes were already filled, overflowing with her books. Yathaarth was inside an empty box, banging happily on its flaps.
“Thava! Thava!” He began to call out to Iram. Atharva reached down and scooped him up. “Bababaaa!” His mouth banged into Atharva’s shoulder. He kissed his hair.
“Iram, we are already late. We have sixteen hours of drive ahead…”
“Just five minutes. I forgot to pack this last night! How did I forget?!”
“It’s alright. Anyway, there is no space left in the car.”
Her horror-stricken face whirled up to his. It had been nothing but panicked these last three days as she had worked on packing up their home.
“We can’t leave these behind. That gramophone also needs to come with us…”
He glanced at the ancient piece of heritage. His grandfather’s most prized possession. His own prized possession. Atharva shook his head — “It’s alright. Pack it and leave it here.”
“But…”
“We will come back to it soon anyway,” he said, hoping it was true. “Tape up your books and I’ll send Shiva to carry them. Two can be stuffed in the Land Rover. Are you ready?”
“Yes. I need to get Arth’s bag…”
