Ashes Of Us

1.

Shekhawat house was under siege—from a very tiny, very naked tornado named Vayu. His giggles bounced off the walls as he zoomed past furniture.

"Aarohi, main bhi bachpan mein itna tez nahi tha... Yeh toh bilkul apne mama par gaya hai. Dono ke dono bandar" Veer huffed, hunched over, clearly outpaced and outwitted by a four-year-old.

"Vayu! Beta, aa jao! Don't trouble mumma na!" Aarohi shouted, sprinting behind him with a pair of miniature trousers, as if holding a peace treaty.

"Seriously Vayu," Veer groaned, hands on his knees, "if you really want to flash around like this, at least pick an audience your own age. Thoda professionalism lao apne nudist rebellion mein."

Aarohi shot him a glare that could burn toast. At that exact moment, she lunged, caught one tiny leg mid-air, and held Vayu upside down like a potato sack. The boy pouted, arms crossed in defiance.

"Tum pitoge... Shaurya Bhai se," Aarohi warned in her most resigned 'mom' voice.

Veer smirked. "Yes, Vayu. When Shaurya Bhai finds out, you're finished".

Aarohi narrowed her eyes. "I was talking about you, Einstein."

Right on cue, both she and Vayu started laughing, clearly enjoying Veer's slow realization.

"THAT'S SO UNFAIR!" Veer gasped dramatically, clutching his invisible pearls.

"Papa?" Vayu blinked innocently.

"Yes, bachcha?"

"When's Big Papa coming?"

As if summoned by magic—or possibly karma—two strong arms swooped in and lifted Vayu into the air like Simba in The Lion King. Vayu giggled uncontrollably as Shaurya's beard tickled his cheek.

"What's up, champ? Miss me?" Shaurya grinned, hoisting the boy like a trophy.

"YES! These two are the worst! No fun! " Vayu declared, flopping dramatically against Shaurya's shoulder.

Shaurya raised an eyebrow. "Vayu, don't call your parents by their names. It's rude."

"Sorry, Big Papa," Vayu mumbled, instantly switching to puppy-eyes mode. He nuzzled Shaurya's cheek like a baby koala, deploying his most powerful weapon: cuteness.

As always, it worked like a charm. Shaurya softened immediately, gently brushing the boy's hair and patting his back with a fond smile.

Shaurya's arm rested securely around Vayu's back as they strolled toward the dining room, the boy still nestled against him, mumbling something about "not liking pants ever again."

He didn't even glance up as he asked casually, "Veer, where's the old man?"

Veer, adjusting the collar of his crumpled shirt from the toddler tornado chase earlier, looked up mid-stride. "Udaipur."

Shaurya stopped walking.

"Since when?"

"Left this morning," Veer replied, hands slipping into his pockets. "Didn't say why. Just told Raghu to prep the car, and then he was gone."

Shaurya's brow furrowed slightly. "He didn't say anything to you?"

Veer shook his head. "Nope. Packed his own bag. Didn't even take his blood pressure meds."

Shaurya glanced down at the little boy in his arms. "He never travels without telling me."

"Exactly what I thought," Veer said. "But I figured maybe he just wanted space. Space from you to be exact. Or maybe he needed a break from the family group chat. You've seen it lately—it's mostly political memes and Vayu's shirtless crime spree videos."

At that, Aarohi caught up with them, wiping her hands on her dupatta. "Honestly, I wouldn't blame him. I need a break and I don't even read half the messages. And you're the only one sending those".

They stepped into the dining hall, and whatever tension had begun to gather quietly dispersed into the polished calm of the room.

It was elegant but lived-in. The high ceilings were traced with ornate gold cornices, the chandelier above casting soft, amber light over the long, dark wood table. The chairs were antique, padded, but scuffed at the edges—evidence of years of real family life layered over inherited wealth.

Shaurya took his place at the head of the table—the seat that had once been Vedansh Shekhawat's and had slowly, quietly, become his. He settled into it like it was second nature and placed Vayu on his lap, the boy immediately reaching for the cutlery.

Aarohi gently pried a butter knife out of Vayu's hand. "No, sweetheart. Please apne baap ki tarah mat khao".

Shaurya chuckled. "He's fine. I've negotiated arms deals with more dangerous men."

Veer, settling into the seat across from them, muttered, "Kyu unlog bhi nange ghumte the kya?"

Vayu giggled and leaned back into Shaurya's chest, completely unbothered.

As the staff brought in trays of food—biryani, dal makhani, roasted chicken, and a big bowl of dahi—Shaurya picked up a piece of naan, tore off a bite-sized portion, dipped it in curry, and held it up.

"Come on, champ. Don't make me bribe you like Veer used to be bribed."

"I wasn't bribed," Veer objected. "I was strategically motivated. There's a difference."

Aarohi rolled her eyes as Vayu opened his mouth wide, clearly enjoying the royal treatment. "Big Papa feeds better," the boy declared proudly between chews.

"You hear that?" Shaurya smirked at Aarohi. "Five-star rating. I'm retiring and opening a daycare."

"You'd last five minutes," she replied, sipping her water.

"True," Veer added. "Mostly because the kids would unionize."

They all laughed, even Vayu, who had no idea what unionizing meant but enjoyed the mood.

The conversation turned casual—Veer complaining about a cracked taillight, Aarohi reminding him about Vayu's preschool visit next week, Shaurya asking about the staff rotation.

But Shaurya's eyes drifted, just once, to the far end of the table.

His dad's chair.Empty. Neatly tucked in. Plate untouched.

Unusual.

Still, he didn't bring it up again.

Then his eyes lingered to the seat right next to him. The seat which has been empty for 5 years. But he shifted his thoughts.

He shifted Vayu a little closer, the boy now halfway asleep, warm and full in his arms.

For now, things were peaceful. For now, they were home.

And for a family like the Shekhawats, peace—however brief—was worth sitting still for.