Page 195 of The Circle of Exile
“Why?”
They reached the door of the bungalow and Yathaarth made a noise.
“Babaaa!”
They glanced up in time to see Atharva coming down the spiral staircase, looking dapper in his turtleneck thanks to the dipping evening temperatures.
“Amaal,” he called out, walking down to them and taking the stroller from her to carry it up the steps. “When did you come?”
“Fifteen minutes ago, and you were busy. On a Sunday evening.”
“My days are all the same,” he smiled easily, taking the bags off the stroller. He glanced at Iram — “You carried all this on your own?”
“You said you are busy,” Iram pointed.
“I asked you to take Shiva.”
“It wasn't much and Ipushedit all.”
Grey eyes bore into hers, challenging. But he held his tongue, passing the bags to Shiva who scuttled out, wiping his hands on a rag. He looked ecstatic today, cooking for more than six people after ages.
“How are you, Shiva?” Amaal waved.
He nodded his head from side to side in glee, a rare smile on his face. Srinagar was indeed here today.
“Samar didn’t come?” Atharva glanced behind her.
“He is on his way…”
Car honks sounded at the gate. They turned, and his car zoomed up at lightning speed, parking outside the door. Iram observed Atharva. He did not look at Samar any differently. They had been working together these last few months. But she also knew that the dynamics had shifted now. Atharva did not say it out loud, but in his consultation calls, approval-requesting emails, in slight alterations in tone as he spoke to Samar — she could read that Samar was the head of HDP and Atharva his associate.
“Am I late?” Samar entered the house with bags from Trishool Bakers, one of Shimla’s most renowned bakeries. His question was casual, but his eyes panned across the room and settled on Amaal, a tad bit longer. His usually solemn face stretched into a smile. Iram followed the exchange and saw Amaal wipe Yathaarth’s drooling mouth with her thumb.
“Give him here, I have to apply his gum medicine.” Iram reached for her son, who was squirming to get down. Amaal deposited him on the floor and he took off like a toy whose key had been turned and was now let loose.
“He runs so fast,” Samar’s shocked voice reverberated.
“He rolls even faster,” Atharva quipped. Iram didn’t have time to follow that conversation as she chased her son. He probably caught the words ‘gum’ and ‘medicine’ together. Lately, his teething had caused them a lot of sleepless nights, even more daytime meltdowns and some frustrated fights too. Atharva and her were both tired on a daily basis after spending nights helpless as their son broke more teeth.
“Arth! Enough now…” she chased him as he ran straight into Daniyal’s open room. He began to push under his bed when she caught his chubby little calves and pulled him out. Even in escape, her son let out his naughty laugh. Iram grabbed him and settled him on her hip — “You love your gum medicine.”
“No gum!”
“Yes gum. You don’t like it when I apply it but then it is yummy-yummy, isn’t it?”
“No gum!” He squirmed.
“I’ll give you your ice lolly after that.”
He pouted, hopeful, but continued to squirm. Iram knew there was no way out but to force her way into his mouth. So like the expert she had become in handling wobbly bundles, she grabbed him under her arm, strode to the medicine cabinet, singlehandedly opened his tooth gel and went into his mouth. He made scary noises.
“What happened?!” Amaal came running, Samar and Atharva on her heels.
“All done.”
“Iram, he is sobbing!” Amaal began to coo at him.
“Can you see tears in his eyes?” She packed up the gel.
