Chapter 12 #3
“We run!” Aara giggled, running to her but slower now, tired, entering that part of her day when she blurted out all the happenings of the day without any filter or guard.
Not that she kept quiet otherwise. She was Zubin personified in energy and words.
But at night, just before falling asleep, she was her most honest, purest, softest version.
She came and lay her head in Aditi’s lap, lifting her feet up as if in invitation. Zubin came and slid under them, taking them on his lap.
Slave, Aditi mouthed at him. He smirked, tickling one little foot to elicit soft giggles.
“How was school today?” Aditi asked.
“Good…” she yawned.
“You had a surprise recitation.”
“How you know?”
“I got an email. What was the topic?”
“My parents.” She yawned again. “And you know what I saided?”
“What?”
“I saided that my Mumma and Papa were in the same division in college and then they got married and then they borned me.” She paused for air. “And my Mumma loves my Papa so much that she sued-ed his donkey for daivorce.”
“What does that mean?” Aditi caressed her hair.
“You told Papa, I know.”
“That I will sue his donkey?”
“Mmm…”
“For divorce?’
She nodded.
“But we told you that there is no divorce, isn’t it?”
“Mmm…” she yawned. “I know.”
Aditi smiled. “Then how does my suing Papa’s donkey mean I love him?”
“Be-cause Papa saided I love you too.”
Aditi glanced up at Zubin, her mouth moving. “That doesn’t make sense, Aara.”
“Sued-ed means like cancelled, right?” She pushed her hair off her nose. “It means you cancelled Papa’s daivorce. You love him so much. And then he saided I love you too.”
Zubin’s brows rose. Aditi glanced down at their daughter. “You think that’s what sued-ed means?”
Aara nodded, big brown eyes wide and knowing, proud, smiling at her upside down.
“Why would I cancel Papa’s donkey for that?” Aditi chuckled.
Aara grinned her impish grin, then began to giggle — “I don’t know.
” She shrugged. “Papa doesn’t even have a donkey.
But it sounded so funny.” She looked at Zubin, giggling sheepishly, holding her foot up for him to kiss.
He was smirking, kissing the sole of that tiny foot before blowing a raspberry on it.
“Right. That’s a case I am fighting, Aara.” Aditi leaned down and kissed the smooth little forehead. Aara’s eyes rolled up to her.
“It has got nothing to do with Mumma and Papa. Ok? Suing doesn’t mean cancelling, it means to do a case against somebody. And I am not suing anyone’s donkey for anything.”
Aara’s round eyes gaped at her.
“And next time you are confused about something, come to me or Papa and ask us. We will always tell you what we know about it. Ok?”
“Mmm…kay.”
Aditi bent down and kissed her cheek, nuzzling the sweet smell of her baby soap. She kissed the soft skin again and straightened.
“Do you want to know how much I love Papa?”
“How much?”
Aditi smiled — “So much that when he eats bhel, I can give him all my puris.”
LIAR, Zubin mouthed at her, his face glowing, preening, a little shy.
“Don’t give him my puris,” Aara muttered, and they burst out laughing.
“Papa?”
“Yes?”
Aara rolled her eyes from side to side, thinking — “Is daivorce a bad thing?”
“Uhh…” He looked at a loss for words.
“It’s not a bad thing…” Aditi started, then stalled.
“But it’s also not a good thing,” Zubin continued, taking over. “It’s… It’s just a thing. When Mumma and Papa really cannot live together because they genuinely cannot. It is a serious thing, Aara. We cannot make fun of it or use it to get gifts or talk about it like that in school.”
“Hmm…” she went quiet. For a long time, she was quiet. Aditi would have thought she had slept but her eyes were wide open.
“You will never get daivorce, no?”
Zubin set his hand down on her stomach — “No, never. We will always remain together.”
“Forever and ever and ever,” Aditi set her hand atop his and found Aara’s arms band around them.
“You, me and Mumma,” Zubin reiterated. “Forever and ever and ever.”
“What about when I get married?”
“We will get your husband home.”
“Not in my room.”
“Of course not in your room. What is the pantry for?”
“Zubin!” Aditi scolded.
“What? It’s a good idea. I am serious.”
“Yaiiy! Then I will tell Krish to get mosquito stickers when he comes…”
“Pardon me.” Zubin’s smile dropped. “Who is Krish?”
“When we marry he will be my husband like you are Mumma’s.”
Aditi pinched her lips together because Zubin looked ready to froth at the mouth. A first.
“Wha… where is this coming from?” He pinned her with his gaze. “Who is this Krish and why is my daughter talking about him like…”
“He is my friend and we will marry when we grow up. Our guest rooms are very big, we will let him live in the pantry.”
“Who is this punk, why don’t I know about him when I drop my daughter to school thrice a week?”
“Because he comes to her dance class.” Aditi helped.
“Oh, so Krish dances?”
“Not as good as me. I am in first line, he is in back line.” Aara sat up, jumping to her feet on the floor and breaking into a jiggle.
“Reason right there to cancel his permanent move to my pantry.”
“But he gets cookies and shares with only me.” She twirled away, smiling with her eyes big and innocent. “They are the beeest cookiiiies…”
“I am going to get convicted for murder and you have to defend me,” Zubin muttered out of Aara’s earshot.
“You are crazy if you think I will defend you for murdering a kid,” Aditi muttered back, making sure their daughter had danced far enough to hear or care about this conversation.
“Not the kid, his father. What kind of nonsense are parents teaching their kids?! One of them is buying their daughter’s good graces, the other is out matrimony hunting!”
“I’m sure your daughter had some ideas to contribute too…”
“My daughter may be a spitfire but she is naive like you.”
“Hello!”
“You never understood my interest in you. For fourteen years!”
“O, stop exaggerating, we were together for 5 years in college and then we didn’t even meet for a decade properly.”
“And what about when I was right in front of you for weeks during the Jaggi Singh case? You didn’t understand even then, even when I kept shouting from the rooftops…”
“Oh god, stopp exaggerating!”
“You and my daughter are exactly like that, focused on your work and completely clueless about what boys think…”
“They are five!”
“If this Krish punk is in the back rows then he is taller, which means he is older…”
“Zubin…”
“Wait a minute, why does he share his cookies only with her?”
“Daru…”
“New rule — Aara doesn’t eat anything but her own tiffin. Aara!” He hollered. “Come here!”
She had already danced away into their bedroom.
“Aara!”
“Zubin.”
“What?” His face turned to her.
Aditi paused.
“What?”
She took a deep breath. His brows rose.
“Zubin.”
“Aditi.”
“You know what this means, right?”
“This what?”
“Deshmukh sir might be right about raising kids looking at their parents in healthy arguments…”
“I know, right?”