[29]CUDDLE
Amisha, eyes still sparkling, grabbed a soft cotton dupatta, threw it over her shoulder, and was already halfway to the door.
"Chalo chalo! Dadi se, sabse milte hain!"
She practically flew down the stairs, two at a time, payals singing, dupatta fluttering behind her like a kite.
Abhiraj followed two steps behind, one hand hovering near her back.
"Amisha, dheere! Gir jaogi!"
She turned mid-stair, walking backwards now, grinning.
"Kuch nahi hota! Main roz aise hi utarti hoon!"
He sighed dramatically, but his hand stayed ready to catch her if she so much as wobbled.
She didn't.
She reached the bottom in one triumphant leap, spun around, and marched straight into the main hall where the entire family was still gathered, talking in excited whispers.
The moment she appeared, the room erupted.
"Arey bahu aa gayi!"
"Badhaai ho beta!"
"Ram ram, pote ki badhaai!"
Amisha's cheeks turned pink, but the smile wouldn't leave her face.
Abhiraj stepped in behind her, hand settling protectively on her lower back.
Megha was the first to launch herself forward.
"Bhabhi! Meri zubaan kitni sachchi hai na?
Maine subah hi kaha tha-main jaldi bua ban jaungi!
Aur ban gayi!"
She did a little victory dance.
Shushila, standing quietly near Minakshi Ma, actually smiled (small, shy, but real).
"Aur main chachi."
The teasing made everyone laugh, even Shatish cracked the tiniest grin.
Dadi pulled Amisha down beside her on the diwan and immediately started the traditional lecture, voice soft but firm.
"Ab se sarson ka tel maalish karna hai har roz.
Paani zyada piyo.
Left karvat pe sona.
Aur khatti cheez mat khana zyada, warna bacche ko khatti dakaar aayegi!"
Minakshi Ma added, patting Amisha's cheek,
"Subah uth ke pehle doodh piya kar, badam daal ke.
Aur yeh ladka (she glanced at Abhiraj) ab tujhe godh mein utha ke staircase chadhaayega, samjhe?"
Abhiraj gave a mock salute.
"Ji, Ma'am."
Amisha laughed, eyes shining, surrounded by love and advice and laughter.
The haveli had never felt so full,
and the evening had only just begun.
high wooden hichkas (swings) had been dragged out in a neat row under the open sky.
The women sat on them like queens; the men sat cross-legged on the durries at their feet level, heads tilted back into waiting laps.
Minakshi Ma swayed gently, Rajveer Papa's head resting in her lap.
Her fingers moved through his thick hair with the ease of thirty years of practice, warm coconut oil glistening.
He had his eyes closed, a small, peaceful smile on his face.
Amisha sat with her legs tucked to one side, Abhiraj's head in her lap.
She poured oil slowly, combing it through with her fingers, scratching his scalp exactly how he liked.
Every time she hit the spot behind his ears he made a low, shameless sound of pleasure.
She laughed softly and kept doing it.
Dadi rocked slowly, Mihir stretched out with his head on her thigh, grinning up at the stars.
"Arey Dadi, aaj extra zor se dabaao, sar dard hai!"
Dadi pinched his ear playfully and obliged
The cold-war zone.
Shushila sat stiff-backed, red saree pallu perfectly pleated, face carefully blank.
Shatish sat on the durri in front of her, shoulders rigid, staring straight ahead like he was waiting for punishment.
She tipped the oil bottle (just enough, not one drop extra) and began massaging with precise, mechanical movements.
No warmth, no lingering, no scratching.
Shatish's jaw was tight.
Shushila's lips were pressed into a thin line.
Megha, swinging idly on the railing nearby, couldn't resist.
"Arrey wah, kitna pyar baant rahe ho dono!"
Shushila's fingers paused for a split second.
Shatish muttered under his breath
, "Bandar kahin ki..."
Shushila heard it.
Her nails suddenly dug in a little harder than necessary.
Shatish hissed.
"Arrey dheere!"
She answered without looking at him, voice icy-sweet,
"Pet se hai na aapki bhabhi, main toh sirf practice kar rahi hoon."
Abhiraj choked on a laugh.
Amisha bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud, fingers still moving soothingly through her husband's hair.
Rajveer Papa opened one eye, amused.
"Shushila beta, pyar se... balon ke saath dushmani mat nikaalna."
Shushila's cheeks flamed, but her hands gentled immediately.
Shatish exhaled through his nose, still staring at the sky like it had personally offended him.
Dadi chuckled.
"Humare zamane mein bhi aise hi shuru hota tha... phir ek din baccha aa jata hai aur ladai khatam!"
Everyone burst out laughing (except the fourth hichka, where the temperature dropped another five degrees).
The swings creaked, oil bottles passed hand to hand, stars glittered overhead,
and the haveli settled into its favourite nightly rhythm:
Two couples drowning in love,
one couple number four pretending they weren't already on their way there.
The door closed with a soft click behind them.
The champi on the veranda had left both of them drowsy and smelling of warm coconut oil.
Amisha flopped face-first onto the bed without even removing her dupatta, limbs heavy, eyes half-closed.
She lay on her stomach, cheek pressed into the pillow, looking like a sleepy kitten who had used up all nine lives.
Abhiraj stood in front of her, back to her, pulling off his kurta.
He tossed it onto the chair, then reached for a simple white vest from the almirah.
Normally Amisha would look away, pretend to be busy with her phone or suddenly find the ceiling very interesting.
Tonight she didn't even try.
She stared. Shamelessly.
Her hazy, sleepy gaze fixed on the strong line of his back, the way his muscles moved when he lifted his arms, the sharp cut of his shoulder blades... and especially that bobbing Adam's apple when he swallowed.
She swallowed too, without realising.
Arre.
.. khud ka pati hai, kon itna tadta hai?
Her own thought scolded her.
But pregnancy had clearly broken something inside her brain, because the attraction had gone from normal to nuclear in the space of one day.
Abhiraj turned, caught her staring, raised a brow.
She instantly looked away, pretending to study the fan.
He smirked, slipped on the vest, and walked over.
The mattress dipped as he slid in beside her, pulled her into his usual spoon, arm around her waist, ready to sleep.
But the usual spoon wasn't enough tonight.
Amisha wiggled backward.
Then more.
Then twisted until she was half on top of him, pressing closer, closer, closer.
Abhiraj's eyes snapped open fully.
"Amisha... kya hua?"
She buried her face in his chest, voice muffled.
"Kuch nahi..."
He felt her literally trying to fuse their bodies.
"Itna chipak kyun rahi ho achanak se?"
She went bright red, voice tiny.
"Mujhe aur chipakna hai."
He laughed under his breath.
"Baby, isse zyada chipakogi toh kya hi bachega?"
She made a frustrated little sound and tried to climb fully on top of him.
Abhiraj's hands settled on her hips to steady her, voice dropping to that dangerous, low register.
"Sun... main koi sant-thakur nahi hoon.
Aur zyada chhedogi toh control nahi rahega."
Amisha's ears turned scarlet.
She slapped his chest weakly.
"Kitni gandi baatein karte ho! Baap banne wale ho, thodi sharam kar lo!"
He grinned, completely unrepentant, and slid one palm up her back, the other locking around her waist, pressing her small body now completely stuck to his chest like a second blanket.
"Sharam hoti toh baap kaise banta?"
She squeaked, hid her face in his neck, but didn't move away even an inch.
To him, she weighed nothing, just a warm, clingy little cat sprawled across his chest.
To her, he was the entire bed, the entire world.
He kissed the top of her head, voice soft again.
"So ja, mera baby aur meri baby-doll.
Kal bhi poora din chipakne ka time milega."
She made a happy, sleepy sound and finally relaxed, fingers curled into his vest, legs tangled with his.
Within minutes her breathing evened out.
Abhiraj lay awake a little longer, one hand gently stroking her back, the other resting protectively over the tiny life growing inside her, smiling into the dark.
Pregnancy hormones, midnight ice-cream, and a wife who suddenly couldn't get close enough,
he decided life had never been better.