•♥︎•

I woke up feeling the sun rays graze my face. I turned around to see my boy's peaceful sleeping face. He was sleeping soundly. I turned towards the wall clock to see that it was already 6 am. God, I was late!

I don't know how I overslept today. It's probably the exhaustion from yesterday's cleaning.

I quickly got up and did my morning prayer, which I do daily after waking up and dashed towards the bathroom to get ready.

After taking a much needed warm bath, I got dressed in a simple navy blue saree, applied a small bindi, wore my usual green bangles, tied a pair of simple anklets, and pulled my hair up in a bun.

I walked downstairs, avoiding touching anything, and entered the temple of our house. I did my morning ritual offering and Shiv Aarti.

ॐ त्र्यम्बकं यजामहे सुगन्धिं पुष्टिवर्धनम्|

उर्वारुकमिव बन्धनान्मृत्योर्मुक्षीय माऽमृतात्||

Hay Shivji, humara aaj ka din subh ho. Om ke Baba jo bhi kare usme unhe saphalta prapt ho. Aur humare Om ko sadbuddhi pradan kare.

ॐ नमः शिवाय।

[Oh Lord Shiva, bless my day with positivity. Whatever Om's father does, let him be successful in it. And provide my Om with good wisdom and knowledge]

I made my way back towards my room to wake my boy up for school. On the way, I encountered Rupa aunty, our maid. She was probably the only woman who was kind to me and wasn't repulsed by me even after knowing everything. She was in her early 40s, a nice and kind-hearted lady.

I went inside my room to see him sleeping, sounding, clutching the blanket close to him, covering his entire body. He believes that if you're not covered properly, demonic evil spirits come and consume you.

Because of this, he even gets terrifying nightmares at night—so much so that he gets so scared, he can't sleep the whole night. That’s why, every night, I have to apply temple ash (vibhuti) on his forehead.

"Om," I called out gently, not to startle him as I made my way towards his bed. And as expected, the little boy didn't move an inch.

"Om," I gently shook him, causing him to stir and let out a whine of protest. "Get up. It's time. Don't you want to go to school, huh?" I said again, pulling his blanket away.

His whines increased. "Just two minutes more, mummaaaa!" He mumbled conherently in a whiny tone.

I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. "Na, na, na, get up quickly. I don't want to hear another whine of protest." I spoke a little sternly. I was usually very gentle because the strictness department's head was his father. But sometimes, it was very needed for this boy.

His finally opened his eyes, pouting in a frown, looking annoyed yet incredibly adorable. "Mumma!" He whined again in an annoyed tone this time.

"To the bathroom. Now. Brush your teeth and take a bath while I go check on your Baba." I said, pointing towards the bathroom. His pout deepened, looking at me pleadingly. I shook my head firmly, making his relectantly make his way towards the bathroom.

I shook my head and made my downstairs. Wait, I should see if he woke up or not. He said he had an important meeting with the other officers today.

If he misses it, he'll get supar cranky, and what if there’s a serious problem and it causes a major loss? No, no, just to be sure, I'll go and check once.

I entered the room to see the bed empty and neatly organised. I could hear the faint sound of water coming from the bathroom. He was taking a bath already. I don't know why I even bothered to check. He was the epitome of punctuality and promtness.

I finally went downstairs and entered the kitchen to cook breakfast and lunch for Om's tiffin. Halfway through, I had just started kneading the dough when Om's voice came from upstairs.

"Mummy, I am not able to find my pelt and pepe case!" He shouted from his room. I sighed and washed my hands, wiping my hands to my saree, I made my way upstairs.

He turned around when he saw me enter and quickly jumped towards me. "I am not able to find my pelt and pepe case!" He whined, pouting. 'Pelt' because he always pronounces 'B' as 'P' as he is still little. And pepe aka pencil.

"Do you even remember where you kept it, huh? Pratshala aur dhaftar se aaye nhi ki cheezo ko idhar udhar phek dete ho tum aur tumhare Baba. Kabhi koi cheez sambhalkar rakhi hai jo dhundhne par mil jaye?" I muttered, taunting them both.

[The moment you and your father come back from school and office, you start throwing things around. Have you ever kept anything properly so it can be found when needed?]

Om just smiled cheekily as I started searching for his stuff. "Mumma, aaj na shul jane ka maan nhi kar raha." He mumbled, mispronouncing 'school' as 'shul' in his baby voice, giving me his those eyes that can convince a mountain to move. But not today. Today, I was a stubborn mountain.

[Mumma, I don't want to go to school today]

I turned to him, keeping an arm on my hip. "Accha toh kis cheez ka maan kar raha hai? Baba ki daant aur humara jhapad khane ka?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

He pouted again, shaking his head. "I'll just stick with going to school." He mumbled, and I huffed. "Mumma, why are you so moodyyy today?" He asked, walking beside me.

Moody? Me?

"I am not moody or anything." I grunted, turning back to my searching mission.

"Yes, you are. You are usually more nice."

"That's because you've taken my niceness for granted. Tell me, did you recite the table of 2 yet, huh?"

"I.. um, yeah, a little. I know till what 2 times 4 is. It's 8!" He said like it was a very proud thing to say, and I was supposed to pat his back for it.

He was 7, and yet his maths was as good as a toddler.

I huffed again. "Finally! Here, your belt. And the pencil case might be in your bag." I pulled the belt out of the cloth basket and handed it over to him.

"Thank you! But it's not in my pag (bag). I already checked there." He said in a matter of factly tone, taking the belt from my hand.

I walked towards his bag and searched. As expected, the case was there. I showed it to him with a deadpanned look. His jaw dropped. He looked at me with wide eyes. "How? It wasn't there when I searled (searched)." He said in disbelief, eyes still wide open.

I smiled at him. "Because mumma has magic eyes." I said, pinching his cheek. I couldn't help myself. He looked so cute.

"Really?!" He asked in excitement and curiosity.

I chuckled. "No, baby, it's just a mother-ly thing. And what is this? You were worrying about your belt and pepe case when you aren't even dressed yet." I said, gesturing towards his body. He was only in an underwear, and his hair hadn't even tried properly.

"I was witin (waiting) for you." He said, standing there stretching his arms.

I shook my head and took a towel to try his hair. After drying his hair, I made him wear his school uniform and applied some powder to his face. I took the coconut oil bottle, pouring some on my hand, I applied it to his hair.

"Sit straight for a while." I said, as he started moving, making 'zhu-zhu' sounds. I carefully combed his hair and done.

I circled my hand over his head to remove evil eyes and smiled. "Ab lag raha hai na humara beta ek dam hero." I said, putting a kohl dot behind his ear from my eye.

[Now, my son is looking no less than any actor]

He giggled as I started tickling him. "Gauri!!" Suddenly, a call for name came, making us look at the door involuntarily even though no one was standing there.

"Looks like your Baba needs something. Get down for breakfast, okay?" He nodded his head and went towards his bag while I made my way towards his father's room.

I entered the room and saw him standing in front of the mirror, buttoning his uniform. "Ji kahiye, aapne bulaya hume?" I asked, approaching him.

[Yes, you called for me?]

He turned towards me and let out a sigh of relief. "Gauri. Thank god, you came. Dekho humari shirt ki button ki silayi khul gayi hai, jara sildo." He said, showing my the fallen button on his palm.

[Look, the stitching on my shirt button has come undone — could you sew it back on?]

I nodded. "Let me bring the thread and needle." I said and rummaged through the drawer of his dresser, where I know the threads and needles are kept. I searched for a khaki coloured thread as I got the needle.

There, it is.

I turned back to him to see him already staring at me. I gestured towards his shirt. "Take it off. I'll sew it in a minute."

He opened his mouth to say something about closed it, rubbing the back of his neck. "Gauri, I'm already getting late. I don't have the time to take it off. Just do it like this. Here." He spoke urgently, leaning down to my height to give me better access to his shirt.

"But won't your back hurt like this?" I asked because how long will stay in this leaning position at this age?

"What do you mean this age? Do I look old to you?" He asked,  narrowing his eyes. Did I say that out aloud.

I clicked my tongue at my own foolishness. "Nhi, nhi, hum aapki umar ka khilli nhi udana chahte the. Hume toh aapki parwah hai, isliye keh rahe the." I mumbled, trying to defend myself, looking down, not meeting his eyes.

[No, no, I didn’t mean to make fun of your age. I care about you, that’s why I said it]

His expressions softened. "I know." He spoke in that gentle, reassuring voice of his. "Come on now, sew it back before my back actually starts to hurt."

I blinked. "Oh, yes,"

I wetted the thread from my mouth and pulled it through the needle, gesturing for him to scrunch down. As he leaned down, I started sewing the button back to his shirt. I could feel his gaze on me throughout.

"Done," I said, moving back.

He looked at himself in the mirror, dusting off the shirt from his perfectly built body. Aish, Gauri! You can't say that.

"Thank you, Gauri. I would've surely been late today if it weren't for you." He said with a small smile that I reciprocated nodding.

"Come on fast, I'll serve breakfast." I said, he nodded. I started making my way downstairs, four steps through the steps, and his voice came again.

"Gauri, did you see my wallet?!" He yelled from his room.

"Check that left-bottom corner drawer in the Almira!" I yelled back from the stairs.

"Got it! Thanks."

I shook my head and started walking downstairs again. Another four steps down the stairs and his voice came again.

"Gauri, humara rumal! Aur gadi bhi nhi milri!" He yelled again, sounding frustrated.

[My handerchief! And I'm not able to find my watch either!]

I sighed, overexagerated. This was nothing new. My usual mornings started like this. I walked back into his room while he looked up at me, lost and slighy frustrated. His eyes pleaded for me to find him his things.

I shook my head and went towards his almira to pull out his handkerchief. I walked towards his bed and started searching, as expected the watch was under the sheets.

"Here." I said, giving him his things.

He smiled at me. "Thank you, Gauri." He spoke. His tone dripped with gratitude and something I couldn't quite decipher.

"Pata nhi, hum na hote toh kya karte aap dono baap-bete." I muttered under my breath, but it was loud enough for him to hear.

[Gods knows, what you two would've dono without me]

"Par ab jab tum ho. Toh kisi aur sambhavta ke bare mein sochna hi kyu?" He spoke, fixing his collar and hair in the mirror.

[But you are here, aren't you? So, why should we think of other possibilities?]

I crossed my arms and hummed. "Humare hone ka hi toh galta faida utha rahe hai aap. Humne hi bigaad rakha hai dono ko." I spoke in a scolding way, but not quite in a scolding way. If that makes sense, that is.

[You're taking me for granted. It's my fault, I had spoiled you both]

He chuckled, turning towards me. "Chalo, kam se kam tum manti toh ho ki hum tumhare hi bigade hue hai." He said quietly but with a teasing glint in his eyes.

[At least you accept that you're the one who spoiled us]

I shook my head but couldn't stop the smile threatening to appear on my face. "Come down for breakfast." I said and ran downstairs. I heard him chuckling before I left.

I went downstairs and tucked my pallu (saree end) to my waist. I began to cook the breakfast. I quickly made Poha, chura matter (flattened rice with peas) and dahi-puri. After a while, they both got downstairs and sat on the chowki (mat), I had kept for them before they came down.

I could hear their faint voices as they talked. After everything was ready, I went out and placed Thari (Plate), katori (bowl), and pyaali (glass) in front of them and served the food.

Both of them gave me a wide toothy grin and a brief smile, respectively, as I served. After serving them, I stood back to see if I served everything.

Once satisfied, I spoke.

"Chaliye, shuru kijiye."

[Come on, dig in]

They both nodded. Om's Baba leaned forward to pick up the glass to circle water around his and Om's plate and pray before they dig in, and only then I realised that I had forgotten to serve water in their glasses.

He looked up at me and opened his mouth. But before he could say anything, I slapped my forhead, clicking my tongue. I quickly dashed inside to bring water from the ghaila (water pot).

I served them water and stood back to see if they needed anything. Om's Baba circled the water around his and Om's plate and gestured for Om to join his hands and pray like he was doing.

After doing so, he turned towards me. "Did you eat yours?" He asked gently. What was he saying? How could I eat mine before making sure they both ate?

"No. You both eat, I'll eat afterward." I said, shaking my head, removing my tucked pallu.

He gave me a look as if saying, "Seriously?" He shook his head, signing. "Tumko aur kitni baar kehna hoga, Gauri? Jao andar se ek aur thari lekar aao, aur humare saath baitho nashta karne."

[How many times will you make me say it, Gauri? Go inside and get one more plate and sit with us for breakfast]

"No, I'll—" I was about to protest, but his one look was enough to make me gulp it in and do as he said. I went in and brought a chowki and thari for myself and sat beside them to eat.

He gave me an approving smile. "Don't make me say it again. We all will eat both meals together. Hmm?" He said with a finality, leaving no room for disagreement.

"Ji," I nodded.

"Yay!" Om suddenly cheered, grinning like a bunny, showing his front two teeth, making both of us laugh.

And just like that, with laughing and small moments like this, we finished our breakfasts. Om left for his school with Rupa aunty, who was on the terrace, laying out papads to dry in the sunlight.

Om's Baba had gone upstairs in his room to bring an important document he needed for today's important meeting. I sat on the cot and started cutting the raw mangoes to make pickle out of them.

It was mid-April, and the sun was in his prime. It was so hot nowadays. The perfect time to start making pickles, papads, sabudana-aalo chakli, and dahi-mirchi.

I'll have to ask Raghu kaka to help me take the mattresses to the terrace. Raghu kaka was Rupa kaki's husband. The couple was appointed by him to help me with housechores even though I told him I didn't need any help.

But in a way, it was nice. I could have a chat with them if I was bored or had nothing to do. Otherwise, I would have been completely lonely in this big house. It was the house that the government gave him as the SP of Banaras.

I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and he decended down with a cloth-bounded file in his hands. He glanced at me and walked towards me.

"I'll take my leave then. Take care, hmm?" He spoke in a gentle voice, eyes scanning mine.

I nodded. "You too."

He nodded and started to leave towards the door. I suddenly remembered something but hesitated. Not wanting to dwell in hesitation, I called out to him.

"Rudvik ji,"

I still felt awkard and embarrassed taking his name from my mouth, how could I? But he strictly scolded me to never call him with any formal titles ever again. I protested because again how can I call him by his name or informally. So, all in all, we settled on this. Or more like he convinced me so.

He turned back, looking at expectantly. "Yes?" He asked, giving his whole attention to me.

"Woh aaj, um, kya aap aaj niwas jaldi aa sakte hai? Bazaar se kuch saman lena tha hume." I asked, pushing a stubborn strand that fell free from my bun, out of my face.

[Can you, um, can you come early today? I have to buy some stuff from the market]

He nodded, with missing a beat. "Of course. I'll make sure to come home early today." His voice was calm and baritone.

"Ji, intezar karenge aapka." I said with a faint smile. [I'll be waiting for you]

"Jyada intezar nhi karayenge tumko." His voice was gentle and assuring, like a silent promise. [I won't make you wait much longer]

With that, he left.

And I continued cutting the mango pieces to make pickle out of it. My Om loves mando pickle, and Rudvik ji likes it too.

My day passed by in a blur. Working, chatting with Rupa aunty, hearing his village stories from Raghu kaka. I then sat with the tailoring machine to sew. I loved sewing. It was just so fun and relaxing, and I was pretty good at it.

It was almost 4:00 pm.

Om must be arriving anytime soon. Raghu Kaka went to bring him. He was in primary school, in class 2nd. Rudvik ji had enrolled him in a very elite public school.

I went towards the kitchen to make Almond-milk for him. My son must've been tired after a long day at school.

"Mummaaaa!!"

I heard Om's chirpy, enthusistic voice as he kicked off his shoes and socks here and there before making his way towards me. And to say , I gave him a lecture this morning about keeping things in their proper places.

He came and hugged me from behind. "What are you doing?" He asked curiously, peeking at the kitchen counter from behind me.

"Hum badaam-dhoodh bana rahe hai tumhare liye. Swad ke liye kesar bhi dala hai humne." I added proudly. But his face scrunched, forming a pout as it does whenever it comes to milk.

[I are making almonds and milk for you. I have also added saffron for taste]

"Nhi, nhi, nhi, ye muh bana band karo. Doodh dekhte hi muh banne lag jate hai, shehzade ke." I scolded, not in the mood to buy his excuses or deal with his tantrums.

[No, no, no, stop making those faces. I swear to god as soon as you see milk, you start making faces]

"I don't like milk. Why do I have to drink it? Aap hi toh bolte ho jo pasand nhi hota woh nhi karna chahiye." He reasoned, titling his head like some genius who cracked the theory behind mankind.

[You yourself say that whatever you don't like, you should not do it]

"But sometimes, we have to do things we don't want to do if they're for our own good. Got it?" I poured the milk in the cup and presented it in front of it, festuring for him to finish it.

He nodded, begrudgingly taking the cup from my hand.

"You drink this, I'll bring your clothes for you." I said and left towards the room to get it.

After a few hours, it was 6:00 pm. Om and I were sitting on the cot in our living room, watching Doordarshan's 'Ek Anek Aur Ekta' on the black and white box Rudvik ji brought from Bombay. He says it's called a television or something. We can see moving pictures on it.

But what was bothering me the most was that where was he?

He promised he'd come early today. He said he'll not make me wait and yet is still doing the exact same. I don't know why, but I was starting to feel frustrated and really, really annoyed. Why did he make a promise when he couldn't keep one?

Should I telephone him?

But what if he's busy and I disturb him? But then he promised me he'd come early.

I have every right to call and ask him. I mentally convinced myself and walked towards the rotary dial telephone.

I inserted my finger in the hole of a number and rotated it clockwise till the metal stopped and repeated for all the digits of his station number. The loud 'trr-trr' ring went, but no one picked up the call. I tried again, once, twice, thrice, still no one picked it up.

Aisa bhi kya karam-kaand kar rahe hai jo ek telephone uthane tak ki fursat nhi milra inko?

[What kind of things is he doing that he doesn't even get time to pick up a phone?]

I huffed in frustration, keeping the handset on the base rather louding and with more force than necessary.

•♥︎•

•♥︎•

"Hawa Ke Jhonke Aaj Mausamon Se Rooth Gaye,

Gulon Ki Shokhiyaan Jo Bhanwre Aake Loot Gaye,

Badal Rahi Hai Aaj Zindagi Ki Chaal Zara,

Issi Bahaane Kyun Naa Main Bhi Dil Ka Haal Zara,

Sawaar Loon Haaye Sawaar Loon."