Support System

Pretty soon, I learned cautious discretion. When your first crush crushes something kind ~ Eldest Daughter.

Pratap walked around the empty apartment in his shorts and poured himself a glass of water. It had been two days since Amar had left, and the sudden silence around the apartment was loud. He had never stayed alone since college, and his loneliness had always been internal until now. He placed the empty glass down on the kitchen counter and eyed the Fitbit for a time. It was 5.30 AM, and he could not sleep. He walked into his office and opened his laptop to check the day’s schedule.

Pratap parked his car on the pavement opposite Amar’s school, hoping to meet him briefly before he boarded the school bus home. He had the guardian pass that Ajabdeh had given him and contemplated taking him home. But that would freak Ajabdeh out; she would probably snatch his card. So he decided a hug would do just as well. He needed to tell Amar that he missed him. If life taught Pratap anything in these three decades, it was that he should speak what was on his mind more, especially to the people he loved. He was ready to change his ways and start with who mattered the most, Amar. He eyed the crowd of guardians at the gate from a distance. Mothers, with battery fans in their hands, gossiping. Some out-of-place Dads standing in a corner where he had stood two days ago, a few nannies chattering away, and his eyes fell on her. Ajabdeh had her sunglasses on, AirPods in her ears, and a phone in her hand. Everything she needed to avoid communication in the crowd. She was wearing a pair of khaki pants with a midnight blue shirt and had the ID card of her workplace around her neck. Pratap stepped back, aware of his presence, unsure of her reaction. He did not expect her here. The gates opened, and she disappeared further into the crowd. Pratap looked around for a glimpse of Amar once again. He hated to admit to himself that he was acting like a stalker. Shaking his head, he decided to show himself and surprise Amar. He would be pleased. Pratap was about to check the incoming traffic and cross the road to the other side when he saw a car stop by in the parking space by the school, and Jalal walked out. Pratap’s immediate reaction was to walk behind his car, so as not to get spotted, as he watched Jalal in a jolly stride, in a pair of denim and a polo-necked T-shirt, wearing a pair of sunglasses, whirling the keys on his index finger as he walked towards the school. Pratap could now see Amar walk out, holding Ajabdeh’s hand, hopping away gleefully as she laughed at something he said. Her AirPods were put away in her bag, her sunglasses over her untied hair as she paid attention to the boy’s chatter. Amar suddenly spotted Jalal, who waved at him. Ajabdeh’s eyes followed Amar to Jalal as he shrieked, “JJ, you are here!” and ran to Jalal’s arms. Jalal picked him up and kissed the boy. Ajabdeh smiled at him and then at Amar. “What a surprise, isn’t it, Amar?” She perhaps said. Amar wrapped his arms around Jalal, who kissed the boy and nodded at Ajabdeh. Amar waved his hands around, telling something that had happened in school, as Ajabdeh and Jalal shared a laugh. Jalal put him down from his lap near the car and opened the back door for Amar. Ajabdeh shook her head, pointing at her ID card as Jalal opened the front door for her. She laughed at something he said before she got into the passenger seat, and Jalal drove away. Pratap stood there with a new sense of emptiness in his heart. His vision blurred a little as he inhaled and got into the car quickly. But he could not drive away. He sat in the car for the next five minutes, with the ignition on. When was the last time he saw Ajabdeh laugh? Had he ever seen Amar that happy? Were they allowing him back into their lives because they were legally bound to? Was there any space for him in Amar’s life? Pratap cursed himself inwardly. It was all his doing. He could not expect to be irreplaceable in the life of a boy he did not know till a few months back. He exhaled and closed his eyes to compose himself. He had not heard from Rukaiya. Perhaps Jalal did not want to see him. Would he have wanted to see him if he were in Jalal’s place? Pratap, on impulse, dialled his mother.

“Are you okay?” His mother’s question overwhelmed him. He had just said hi. She knew something was wrong. 

“I… umm… I want to talk to Jalal.” He cleared his throat. A silence followed.

“And what do you want to say?” Jaivanta asked.

“I want to thank him for taking care of Amar.” Pratap’s voice choked a little. “When I could not be a father… he…. he….”

“Pratap?” Jaivanta stopped him. “What’s wrong? Did you meet Jalal?” She was alarmed by his sobbing.

“Ranima. I can’t.” He shook his head, with his hands on the wheel. The crowd around the school had vanished by then, and he had no idea how much time he had spent sitting there in the parked car. “I can’t do this. I am not brave enough.”

“Pratap.” Jaivanta’s jaw tightened as she spoke firmly. A teardrop escaped her eyes, but she wiped it away. “You need to face the consequences of your action. I know it is tough, but this is your doing.” Pratap inhaled sharply at his mother’s words as he wiped the tears off his face.

“I know,” he said, composing himself. “I know. I just doubt if I can … mend things or if they are beyond repair.”

“Nothing is beyond repair.” Jaivanta was firm. “If you are willing to work for it.”

“You know I am.” Pratap agreed.

“Then focus on your bond with Amar first. Once he gets used to you, you will find ample time to talk to Jalal and Ajabdeh. Give them time to get used to having you around again. You can’t expect to be forgiven so easily.”

“I know, Ranima.” He nodded. “I just don’t know where to start.”

“I told you. Start with Amar.” 

“I met Salim and Rukaiya, you know.” Pratap smiled faintly. “Salim is…”

“Rukaiya showed me his picture. Was she cordial with you?” Jaivanta enquired.

“She was, but she said she can’t forgive me unless they do. I don’t blame her.” Pratap shook his head. “Anyway, I have to get back to work.”

“Come by home this weekend,” Jaivanta said. “Maybe you will feel better,” Pratap promised to consider it.

Rukaiya rang the bell of the apartment and was surprised to find Jalal at the door.

“When did you…” She could not finish her sentence as Amar jumped from behind the curtain. “Surprise!”

“Oh, my, my!” Rukaiya feigned shock as she ruffled his hair. “Look who is here too.”

“I thought he could stay the night since he…” Rukaiya nodded at Jalal’s words as she set her bag down and went to wash her hands, as Maham brought Salim to her. 

“I will sleep with Salim; I am excited.” Amar smiled gleefully.

“Are you sure?” Rukaiya asked as she picked up Salim, who smiled at her. “He wakes up in the middle of the night.” Amar nodded readily. “I will be fine.”

“Don’t worry.” Maham nodded. “I will be alert about both of them.”

“So what do we have for dinner?” Rukaiya asked Amar, who turned to Jalal.

“JJ! Tell her, tell her.” He sounded excited. Rukaiya eyed Jalal, who smiled sheepishly.

“I was thinking I would cook. Amar would help me.” Rukaiya gasped. “Absolutely not. Amar is not helping you burn down the kitchen.” Maham and Amar exchanged amused glances as Jalal shrugged. 

“Mohtarma. You were a fan of my kebabs once.” Rukaiya walked past him, ignoring his glances.

“I did not say you can’t cook. I said Amar is not going into the kitchen.” Jalal and Amar exchanged disappointed looks as Jalal gestured at Amar to remain calm.

“But I used to help around when I was his age.”

“I never saw you.” Rukaiya walked into the bedroom as Jalal followed her inside.

“Because you only saw me during summer vacation. Why will I help then?”

“I helped.” Rukaiya shrugged as she walked into the walk-in wardrobe, and Jalal followed her, alarming her as she took out a Kaftan.

“What are you doing here?” She turned to face him with widened eyes. “Go outside.”

“Or…” Jalal shrugged, with a smile on the edge of his lips. “I can show you that I missed you.” Rukaiya gasped. “The children are there.” She said sternly, giving him a push.

“Can I at least hug my wife?” He asked as Rukaiya smiled with a nod. She held on longer than she thought she would. She did not know she needed the hug as much as he did.

“It’s been a mess around here without you.” She spoke, still in the hug, as he nodded. “I will take care of everything now, Mohtarma. You relax.”

“We can go out for dinner.” She suggested. Jalal shook his head.

“I am not letting you persuade me not to cook. I promised Amar.” He made her stare as she stepped away from the hug.

“Do not ask him to help. He is not ready to be in the kitchen. When he is, it’s Ajab’s decision, not ours.” Jalal eyed Rukaiya, who contemplated. “Should we invite her to dinner now that you are cooking?”

“We can.” Jalal shrugged. “Give her a call.” Rukaiya nodded.

After dinner, when Jalal gloated over the compliment he had received from Ajabdeh, Amar and Maham, Rukaiya reminded the children that it was time for bed. Amar hugged Ajabdeh, promising he would not skip school, and Rukaiya would take him there before he held Maham’s hand as she carried a sleepy Salim to the room. 

“I'd better go.” Ajabdeh gathered her purse. “I have a presentation to prepare. And I have an interview.” Jalal stood up to show her out as he nodded and asked her. “Any good?”

“At least it’s in the city.” She shrugged. “Let’s see.” Rukaiya had walked inside to kiss Salim goodnight when she walked out in the middle of the conversation.

“What’s happening?”

“She has an interview.” Jalal pointed.

“You do know you can work with us, right?” Rukaiya asked as Jalal nodded. “That’s what I said.”

“I know, and you know my answer.” Ajabdeh shrugged. “I was offered a position by…” She stopped as she bit her lower lip and exhaled. “Ranima.”

“What position?” Rukaiya frowned. “Why did you not tell us?” Jalal quipped.

“Because it's not important. I am not getting involved in their business and … “

“It is still Punwar Sisodiya.” Rukaiya shrugged. “You are still a Punwar.”

“This is why I did not tell you. You can be objective about it; I can’t. She told me she would make sure the Udaipur expansion shares would be Amar’s if I take over. I refused. That’s why… that’s why his father is here.” Ajabdeh exhaled as Jalal and Rukaiya exchanged glances.

“Why would you do that?” Jalal snapped. “Why would you trust him with Amar’s share?”

“What?” Rukaiya frowned at his words. “You think he would take away Amar’s share?”

“NO, he won’t,” Ajabdeh answered before Jalal could. “And I want nothing to do with their business. I am not going down that road again.”

“Yet, he is here.” Rukaiya shrugged. “And you did see him.” Ajabdeh paused at her words.

“What is that supposed to mean? Did I invite him here?” Ajabdeh shrugged.

“No, but deep down you knew the alternative to your refusal.” Rukaiya shrugged. “Maybe somewhere in your subconscious mind, you wanted him around Amar more.”

“Shut the …” Ajabdeh shrugged in denial as she eyed Jalal for support, as he appeared to contemplate Rukaiya’s words.

“Honestly, I think it's good he is around for Amar.” Jalal looked up at Rukaiya’s words disapprovingly as Ajabdeh shook her head. “You are on his side?”

“You can’t be serious?” Jalal looked to be in disbelief. “What makes you think…”

“Sit down. Both of you.” Rukaiya instructed as they shared puzzled looks. Her stern voice reminded them of the study sessions they used to have in Rukaiya’s place, where she would scold Shakti and Ajabdeh for not studying and Jalal for distracting them.

“What are you…”

“Sit down. I will make coffee. We need to talk about a lot of things.” Rukaiya said again, “Unlike you two, I need some clarity of the situation.” Ajabdeh sank back on the chaise as Jalal took the left side of the three-seater couch and eyed each other. Rukaiya took her time to make the coffee and bring it on a tray.

“So, where is this going, Ajab?” She asked as she placed the tray down on the coffee table.

Jalal sat up straight at her question. “Am I missing something here?”

“I don’t know what she is asking.” Ajabdeh shrugged.

“I am asking about your plans. How do you see this working out?” Rukaiya asked as she took a sip of her coffee.

“Co-parenting?” Ajabdeh frowned. “I have made it quite clear to them that Amar stays here with me.”

“And he is fine with that?” Jalal’s tone had a hint of disbelief.

“Maybe now. But what about later?” Rukaiya eyed them. “What about when Amar gets closer to Pratap? As a teen, he can choose to be with him?” Ajabdeh was suddenly alarmed at the implications.

“He… he can visit… but… I ….” She fumbled. 

“Let’s be practical, Ajab.” Rukaiya set her coffee cup down on the table. “Words of the mouth mean nothing, and we all know what Sisodiyas can do. Especially Udai Singh.” She stared at Jalal, who nodded in agreement. “We should speak about it.”

“Yes,” Jalal agreed. “We can talk to a lawyer about what we can do… Maybe make him sign something that says he will not take Amar away or demand full custody?”

“He will never sign that.” Ajabdeh snapped as she looked worried. 

“Look, Ajab.” Rukaiya eyed her keenly. “This is only a valid conversation unless…”

“Unless?” Ajabdeh straightened herself as Rukaiya cleared her throat and eyed Jalal’s narrowed brows. “You want to mend things with him?” Jalal shook his head and stopped at Rukaiya’s stern stare. “You should know, it is completely your choice, and none of us will judge you for it. In fact…” She stopped as Ajabdeh stood up. 

“What? I… where did that come from?” She looked shocked. “I don’t think that is remotely the case. You know how terrible things were…” Rukaiya stood up calmly. 

“I know. And I also know we were all different people under different circumstances then. If he wants to mend the bridges…” Ajabdeh shrugged with a chuckle. “All he wants is to win Amar for his ego.”

“WE can’t trust him.” Jalal agreed.

“I’m sorry to put this blindly, but both of you are speaking from your hurt and not your rational thinking.” Rukaiya shook her head. “I am asking a simple question here. If he wants to mend the bridges and start over, do you want to?” Ajabdeh looked up at Rukaiya’s question. “I don’t blame you for being hurt or feeling terrible by the way you were treated by everyone. But does he deserve a second chance?”

“No, he doesn’t.” Jalal interrupted, a little agitated. “This time, if he screws up, he hurts Amar. We don’t want that, do we?” 

“It is not your call, Jalal.” Rukaiya interrupted. “And I have the same question for you. If he wants to mend things, for Amar’s sake, would you not?” Rukaiya shook her head. “I am not saying forget what happened or trust him fully. I am asking if he extends a hand of peace, would you do the same? Simple.” She eyed the two confused, contemplating faces frowning at her.

“Your silences speak more than words.” Rukaiya shrugged. “It’s time you face reality. Both of you. He is not going anywhere. Not from Amar’s life or ours. Now we can either be bitter and make it worse, or be cordial and see how it goes. If you go the bitter way, we need to see a lawyer. If you are ready to be civil about it, we can have a proper conversation with him. This is about Amar’s future.” Rukaiya turned to Ajabdeh and held her hand. Noticing they were cold, she rubbed them between her hands. “I know he hurt you a lot. But I also know he was manipulated to believe things. I am not taking his side; I am just showing you that you are too clouded with bitterness to see that.”

“What on earth did he tell you?” Jalal asked, suspiciously. “Why are you even…”

“He did not apologise.” Ajabdeh inferred. “Not even once.”

“He won’t. He is not sorry.” Jalal shrugged. Rukaiya exhaled.

“So, you would have forgiven and moved on if he said he was sorry? Would that not be too little, too late?” She made them look up at her.

“What are you suggesting?” Ajabdeh asked as Rukaiya inhaled.

“All I am asking both of you to do is not to let Amar know of the past and your bitterness.” Rukaiya shrugged. “For his sake.”

“I would not kill him if he came in front of me, if that is what you mean.” Rukaiya stared at Jalal’s sarcastic tone.

“And what if Ajabdeh wants to be with him?” Rukaiya asked, as Ajabdeh looked up wide-eyed.

“Where is this coming from? It’s not even...”

“In the picture?” Rukaiya shrugged. “Don’t fool yourself. He did not break his engagement just like that.”

“That was for Amar.” Ajabdeh bit her lip and looked away. “He said so.”

“What did you expect him to say if not that?” Rukaiya asked as she turned to her husband. “I asked you something, Jalal.”

“Wha… I… who am I to…” He shrugged. “It’s Ajabdeh’s life.”

“And we are supportive friends, right?” She made her husband nod. “Ajab, I want you to know that you can forgive him or give him a chance if you want to. Don’t think of anyone else, but you and Amar.” Ajabdeh shrugged, taking her hand away from Rukaiya’s. 

“I still don’t understand why we are talking about this.”

“Me neither.” Jalal shrugged. “Unless he said something.”

“He did not say anything.” Rukaiya asserted. “I… just have this feeling that you two will be dragging the bitterness and not accept the fact that you can give him a second chance as a friend and a partner unless I speak some sense to both of you.”

“Do you believe he deserves a chance after what he did?” Jalal asked in return. “After so many years of friendship?” He looked disappointed, and Ajabdeh stared at him briefly as her face turned grim. Rukaiya smiled faintly. “I believe in second chances. And thirds, and as many as destiny offers. If I did not, I would not be standing here speaking sense to both of you. You know it more than anyone else, Jalal. I would not have been here.” Rukaiya shrugged as Jalal opened his mouth to protest. Rukaiya still went to therapy, but he knew she was doing better since Salim. Talking of those dark days as easily as she did made him feel uncomfortable. 

“People make unforgivable mistakes. People do. He did. I will not deny that. But…” Rukaiya looked up at them. “I know you two have been stuck in bitterness for the past seven years. None of you moved on. Not you. Not Pratap. And the only way to do that is to communicate. I don’t care if you punch him, if he apologises or not, or explains himself. Speak your minds. That is the only way forward.” She watched them stare at her. “Do I make sense?” Ajabdeh nodded at Rukaiya’s words as Jalal looked unsure.

“You do, Ruqs.” She agreed, “I understand what you are saying. But… I don’t think we are ready to address the issue without a bitter fight yet.”

“I don’t even want to drag a past that’s irrelevant.” Jalal shrugged. Rukaiya eyed him hopelessly. Ajabdeh picked up her purse and took her leave. Rukaiya closed the door and turned to her husband.

“What are you doing?”

“What?” Jalal asked cluelessly.

“Did you hear her say she did not want a second chance? That she did not love him?” Rukaiya shrugged.

“No. Why would she say that?” Jalal shrugged.

“Then why are you influencing her decision?” Rukaiya pointed. “It’s not our choice to make, Jalal.”

“When did I…”

“You are being bitter. Ajabdeh would feel remorseful even thinking of forgiving him if you don’t. You know that.” Jalal sighed as he held Rukaiya’s shoulders and asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“If he wants to speak to you, meet him?” Her words were met with silence. “For my sake?”

“Wives and emotional blackmail.” Jalal shrugged as Rukaiya smiled faintly. 

“You know, Ajab is unhappy. And we both know she will never move on from him. She deserves to be happy, too.”

“I know that.” Jalal shrugged. “I just don’t trust him yet.”

“Which is fine… but give him a chance to win our trust back?” Rukaiya suggested.

“Have you… Forgiven him?” He asked as Rukaiya smiled faintly.

“It's not my place to forgive him. But I will not forget that he hurt the two people I care for the most. I let him know that.”

“Do you think he still… loves her?” Jalal asked. Rukaiya smiled at his words.

“You know the answer. You know him. Somewhere, even if you deny it, you still know him.” Rukaiya reminded him gently. Jalal exhaled as he looked grim, and Rukaiya hugged him.

“It’s fine, Jalal. Everything will be fine.”

“How do you know that?” He asked, hugging her back. Rukaiya smiled. “Because I know you. And I know Ajabdeh.”

Ajabdeh sat on the balcony, contemplating Rukaiya’s words. Who was she lying to? Even Pratap could see she had not moved on. Her bitterness was a clear indication of that. She had never gone out on a date, avoiding any advancement from anyone. She always reminded herself that it was for Amar’s sake. She had buried the truth in her heart for the longest time, enough to make herself believe in the lies she had told everyone. But the people who actually knew her saw through her facade. Like Rukaiya did. The moment she asked her the question, she knew it was a rhetorical one. She could not even deny it. Ajabdeh’s heart raced as she stared at an infant picture of Amar by her bedside. He had never indicated that he wanted to mend things with her. Whatever he did was for Amar. Then why was Rukaiya asking her things, digging up old wounds? Ajabdeh sighed. She did not want to think of possibilities and hurt herself again. She would not allow herself to fall in love first. All over again.

Amar ran to the door as the doorbell rang. It was mid-afternoon, just after lunch, and Khetu was trying hard to put him to sleep. His exams had ended that day, and it meant a break in his routine, lots of games, storybooks and screen time. Khetu scolded him, reminding him that his mother would scold her, but it did not work. The bell rang at an odd time as Amar ran to the door, and Khetu reminded him not to open it to strangers. He stopped, allowing her to look through the peephole.

“It's a man.” She whispered to Amar as the doorbell rang again. 

“Who is it?” Amar shouted from behind the closed door, alarming Khetu. 

“It’s me.” Amar was wide-eyed at the voice.

“Open the door, Khetu, it’s Papa.” Amar jumped and clapped as Khetu opened the door, unsurely, watching the man hug Amar. 

“What are you doing here?” Amar asked in awe.

“I was missing you, Buddy. So I waited for your exams to be over. We can have a fun day together now.”

“How about work?” Amar asked, eyes wide.

“I can work tomorrow again,” he said, picking the boy up, and Amar listed the board games they could play in his room. Khetu stared as they walked into the bedroom, as she dialled Ajabdeh.

Ajabdeh held her throbbing forehead as she looked at the mistakes in the presentation. A junior had made the mistakes, and she was busy correcting them. A meeting was scheduled the next day, and it meant she would be late for work. She needed to call Jalal and tell him to stay with Amar. She was too busy to even make a call when her phone rang, and it was Khetu. Seeing the call at an odd hour made her worry as she rushed outside to pick up the call.

“Amar Baba’s father is here.” Khetu sounded unsure.

“What?” Ajabdeh frowned a little as she checked her call log and messages. “He did not inform me.”

“Do you want to talk to him?” Khetu’s words were met with silence.

“No, I will call him up later. Can you tell Amar I will be a little late?” Khetu asked if she needed to stay back and supervise. Ajabdeh refused. She texted Pratap instead, letting him know she would be late, and he replied, saying he would be with Amar until she arrived home.

Ajabdeh walked out of the office, thinking about hiring an autorickshaw back home, eyeing her watch. She hoped Khetu had kept some leftovers for dinner because she was in no mood to cook after the hectic day. As soon as she walked out of the premises on the chilly evening, Amar called out, “Mamma, surprise!” Ajabdeh had a jump scare because she forgot Amar was with Pratap. She turned as Amar hugged her, and she ruffled the boy’s hair.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, alarmed, pulling the chain of the boy’s hoodie up to his chest. 

“We came by to surprise you.” He turned and pointed to his father at a distance, leaning against his car door. Amar, turning to him, made him press his lips and smile at the boy as he put the phone he was checking back in his pocket. “We will go have Chaat.”

“Amar.” Ajabdeh held the excited child’s hand, a little reluctantly. “It’s almost dinner time.”

“So? My exams are over.” He shrugged as he ran back to his father. Ajabdeh exhaled. For a moment, Rukaiya’s words came back to haunt her. She brushed it off as she watched Pratap lean in and listen to his son and give him a low five. She walked up to them and eyed the car.

“For how long have you been out, Amar?” She asked as Pratap straightened himself.

“Not very long.” He answered instead of Amar. “He was bored at home, so we went to the lakes. He said your office was nearby, so we thought…” He stopped explaining as Ajabdeh spared him a glance and nodded. 

“Can we please go and have Chaat?” Amar pouted impatiently, making them smile at him faintly.

“When will you ever learn to be patient?” Ajabdeh shrugged under her breath.

“Where do we go for the Chaat, Amar?” Pratap asked.

“The clock tower.” Ajabdeh and Amar spoke in unison and shared a smile. Pratap felt that it was some sort of mother-son ritual he was getting to be a part of.

“Let’s go.” Amar opened the back door of the car, alarming Ajabdeh.

“Sit in the front.” It was Pratap who narrowed his brows, saying what she wanted to say.

“I hate the seat belt.” Amar shrugged. “Mamma, sit there.” He got into the back seat in a hurry. There was a brief pause and a quick exchange of an awkward glance before Pratap took the driver's seat and waited with his hands on the wheel. Ajabdeh sighed before reaching for the handle.

It was another winter morning, decades ago, when she was late for a group project at a classmate’s place. Her scooter refused to cooperate, and she tried in vain to start it. She was standing by the side of the road, a few kilometres from home and contemplated calling for help.

“Damn it.” She almost kicked the vehicle as she eyed the watch. Her classmates wouldn’t believe her excuse. The sound of a car stopping near her made her turn. He peeped out, asking if she needed help. Ajabdeh had shrugged. Things were less awkward between them lately, in between the book readings and quiet afternoons they spent without letting the world know. Somewhere in the secrecy of their time together, a friendship was blossoming.

“Why don’t you use a car?” Pratap asked as they watched the mechanic work on the scooter.

“Cars make me feel suffocated.” She said plainly. “Were you not supposed to be somewhere?” Pratap shook his head and lied. He was planning to meet Jalal, but cancelled, saying he was not feeling well. The mechanic said they needed to take the scooter back to the garage, and she could pick it up in three days. Ajabdeh agreed and watched their service car take her scooty away. Pratap eyed the watch and her confused face.

“Well, you missed whatever you were planning to do.” He said as she gasped.

“Shakti would be furious. He was supposed to come back home with me.”

“He can do things on his own. You and Ranima need to stop treating him as a child.”

“I should inform him I am not going.” Ajabdeh opened the chatbox and typed in. Pratap watched her add a few emojis telling about her scooty woes and that she would go back home.

“Are you in a hurry?” he asked as she shook her head almost instantly. “Then come along.” Ajabdeh was a little alarmed as he opened the car door for her. 

“Where are we going?” She asked, reluctantly.

“I am kidnapping you.” Pratap made her roll her eyes as they stopped at the next signal.

“You know what.” Ajabdeh suddenly sounded excited. “I never get to sit in the front seat.” She eyed him and smiled. “We always get the back seat when Papa drives.”

“Start driving, and you will get the front seat.” He shrugged. “Or… you can come out with me.” As soon as he said that, there was a sudden air of awkwardness around them. He narrowed his brows, trying to figure out a way to explain his words when Ajabdeh rolled the window down. 

“Don’t do that; the pollution…” He stopped as he eyed her, smiling to herself. He let her be. They stopped at a roadside Chai stall on the highway.

“I did not know Pratap Singh also had tea in stalls like normal people.” Ajabdeh took the hot clay Kulla in her hand and blew some air over it as she looked amused.

“What do you mean?” He frowned. “I am not normal?” Ajabdeh looked alarmed.

“No… I… Never…” She shook her head. “Did Shakti tell you about our farewell party?” She changed the topic as she sat down on the bench, her scarf over her head. Pratap sat by her, sipping the tea as he shook his head.

“It’s a prom kind of thing.” She shrugged.

“I see.” He nodded. “Didn’t happen like that when I was in senior year.”

“Yeah, it started last year.” Ajabdeh nodded.

“Who are you going with?” He did not want to sound intrusive, but failed miserably. Ajabdeh let out a chuckle. “If it were on me, we would not be going, but Shakti doesn’t want to miss the chance. Aunty won’t let Rukaiya come unless Jalal brings her, so there goes her date.” 

“ Why don’t the three of you have fun on your own?” Pratap made her stare back at him wide-eyed. “That’s what I said! But your brother is going on and on about shared experiences and memories.”

“My brother is your best friend. Whenever he doesn’t agree with you, he doesn’t just become my brother.” He shrugged. “Ajabdeh Punwar can talk him out of it.” He discarded the cup in the nearby dustbin. “She can talk people out of anything.” He went ahead to pay for the tea as Ajabdeh watched him, and a faint smile curved her lips. 

“I will be wearing a saree for the first time; my mother is more excited about that.” She said abruptly, getting up from the seat.

Pratap narrowed his brows and observed her. A sudden thought came to his mind, but he did not let it linger. He had this sudden desire to see her in a saree, wondering how she would look. Ajabdeh lowered her gaze from his glance, wondering what he was thinking.

“I know it's not a big deal…” She let out a chuckle, hoping he would look away. He did not. Instead, a smile lingered on his lips.

“You'd better tell Jalal to click a few pictures that day,” Pratap suggested as she looked up at him. “For your memories, of course.” Ajabdeh had nodded, taken his advice and added a candid photo of her in the saree at the party on her social media. He had had the picture in his phone for the longest time, through his days in London. She never knew that. That was the first time she sat in the passenger seat of his car.

Ajabdeh cleared her throat, maybe because of the eerie silence in the car except for the app voice giving them directions to the clock tower. Amar dangled his feet and stared out of the window. Pratap seemed preoccupied, and she was awkward in the strange feeling of Deja Vu.

“What did you do all day, Amar?” Ajabdeh asked, staring at the boy through the rear-view mirror. That got him talking till they reached the clock tower.

Pratap was paying the vendor for the Chaat when he observed how Amar ate the chaat like Ajabdeh did, in a messy way. His mother helped him with a paper napkin she brought out of her bag, cleaning his hands and mouth as they shared an amused laugh. Pratap stood in the distance, soaking in the scene before he walked back to them.

“It’s cold out. Should we have tea?” He asked.

“Can I have tea? Can I, Mamma?” Amar asked. Ajabdeh looked a little reluctant. “Only this one time, I promise?” He tugged at her Kurta, alarming Ajabdeh. 

“Fine.” Amar looked wide-eyed and excited as he led his father to the tea stall. Ajabdeh followed silently, watching Pratap explain to Amar why he should have black tea. She sat down on the bench, staring at the crowded marketplace, people going about their work, tourists buying silver jewellery, and the colourful dresses hanging from the shops as Amar ran to sit beside her before Pratap handed him his cup of tea. She was about to tell the vendor that she wanted a Masala tea with milk and sugar when Pratap handed the cup to her. Ajabdeh looked up at him briefly before taking the tea, carefully avoiding contact. He remembered.

Amar sat between his parents, holding his cup and yawned, drawing their attention to him.

“Look who is tired.” Pratap smiled at the boy affectionately. “Let’s get you home.” Amar did not resist. Ajabdeh took the empty cup from his hand and nodded reassuringly at him. “We are going to go to bed early.”

“What about our movie? You promised that the day the exam ends…” the boy protested.

“Baccha, we can watch it tomorrow, I promise.” Ajabdeh shrugged. “Even Mamma is tired.”

On the way back home, Pratap turned on the radio, which played local songs. Ajabdeh, alarmed at Amar’s sleepiness, turned the volume down without asking him. That made Pratap eye her.

“Sorry, he is going to fall asleep when the car moves.” She said in a whisper.

“What are you apologising for?” Pratap narrowed his brows as he kept an eye on Amar, dozing off.

“I… never mind,” Ajabdeh murmured as she looked out of the window.

“He had too much fun today.” Pratap smiled. She nodded. “I can see that. It was nice that you dropped by. Otherwise, he would have troubled Khetu.”

“Does Khetu take care of him when you aren’t around?” Pratap enquired.

“She has been there since Amar was three. She cooks for us. Sometimes, when Rukaiya is busy, she fills in. If it gets too late, Maham takes care of the children. She is Salim’s nanny.” The way in which Ajabdeh spoke of Salim, Pratap doubted if she knew that he had met the child.

“I was missing him in that big apartment, so I thought…” Pratap did not finish his sentence. Ajabdeh inhaled sharply. The part of her that did not believe him made her think it was his way of showing her that she was not very present in Amar’s everyday life, which he could be. She pressed her lips together, reminding herself not to speak her mind. They shared a good evening for the sake of their child, and they could part amicably. They were adults. 

“How did the job hunting go?” Pratap’s words made Ajabdeh frown.

“Pardon?”

“Amar told me you were looking for something new.” Pratap shrugged. Ajabdeh hated intrusiveness.

“It’s going fine.”

“If you are thinking of changing cities…”

“I am not. Amar has his school, friends and family here.” Ajabdeh asserted. Pratap fell silent at her tone. He nodded. He was in two minds about suggesting a move to Delhi, but knew she would react this way.

“I’m just saying that there are better schools in major metropolises.” He shrugged. Ajabdeh did not respond to his words as she looked out of the window.

The car stopped at the gate of the apartment, and Ajabdeh undid her seatbelt, ready to carry Amar up to the apartment. Pratap read her mind as he undid his seat belt and was ready to do the same.

“Wait.” Ajabdeh was about to open the door of the car when he spoke. “I need to speak to you about something.” Ajabdeh’s heart skipped a beat. Was he going to ask for shared custody? Make it legal, as Rukaiya said?

“I… was thinking of paying for Amar’s school and cricket.” He said abruptly. Ajabdeh’s jaw tightened as she shook her head.

“You don’t need to. I am perfectly capable of paying for his things.”

“I am not saying that, am I?” Pratap narrowed his brows as he turned to her. “I am liable to pay for him.” Ajabdeh suddenly had a smile on the edge of her lips.

“Liable?” She raised her brows and eyed him as she shook her head. “No, you are not.”

“You know I did not mean it like that.” Pratap looked a little agitated.

“Lower your voice; he is asleep.” Ajabdeh looked askance as he exhaled. 

“I mean… I would like to take care of some of his things… financially.” Pratap shrugged. “It’s not to help you. I know you are capable of…”

“No.” Ajabdeh shook her head. “He has got enough gifts and things from your entire family already. I don’t want to raise him on anyone else’s money.” She opened the door and stepped out as Pratap did the same. 

“What do you mean by that? Don’t our families have a right to love and pamper him?” he looked cross. Ajabdeh inhaled.

“ Love and pampering have always been in kind, haven’t they?” She sounded sarcastic. “I don’t raise my child with such values.” Pratap’s jaws tightened.

“You can’t have a simple conversation, simply. Can you?” He retorted as Ajabdeh opened the door to take Amar out. 

“ Oh, you know me so well. Why do you bother then?” She picked Amar up, who stirred briefly in his sleep and nestled himself in his mother’s arms, his head resting on her shoulder.

“Because I care.” Pratap shut the car door as noiselessly as he could before he followed them upstairs. Ajabdeh did not want him to. His words rang in her head like a warning. What did he mean by " cares? Cares for whom? Ajabdeh reached the door and tried to free her hand for the keys. Amar held on to her, prompting Pratap to search his pocket for the keys and unlock her door. Ajabdeh was alarmed. Pratap placed the keys back on the key holder by the door as they stepped in, and he turned on the lights. As soon as the lights came on, Amar fluttered his eyes and rubbed them.

“Goodnight, Papa.” He went to Pratap’s lap from Ajabdeh’s, making her remove her shoes as Pratap talked to him softly. Ajabdeh abandoned her bag and watched Pratap walk into the room and tuck the sleepy boy into bed.

“He needs to change his clothes.” She murmured under her breath as he walked out of Amar’s room and back out of the apartment without sparing her a glance. Ajabdeh heard his car leave downstairs as she sat down on the dining chair and exhaled. She knew she had overreacted as she texted Rukaiya what had happened.

“It’s not wrong for him to offer child support. Take it,” her text message made Ajabdeh frown. Why did none of them understand her stance? People could not barge into her life claiming to be a support system when in reality they were not. She never expected any care or concern in kind, like the Punwars and Sisodiyas were spoiling Amar with. She always valued the emotions, the way Jalal and Rukaiya did, to care for her child. Pratap seemed to be oblivious to that idea of support, or he did not care for anything beyond his money and will to prove himself right. Ajabdeh could not get the bitterness out of her head even if she tried. Rukaiya was right. She was unsure if it was clouding her judgment at this point. Was she doubting every normal move he made and the words he said?  He deserved every bit of her doubt, didn’t he?