My gosh!! Aren't you guys tired of me yet? Why isn't someone petitioning to put this story to an end and put you guys out of your misery? Really!! 😆😆
I dunno if it helps, but this will be the last thread. I promise. Really I do!! 😆
Ok, here is the next update. I know plenty will be disappointed that there is no Prem-Heer. I apologize in advance. You can all pretend that this update never happened!! 😆 I will continue this in the sequence it was planned...no change. Hope you understand. I need to do justice to my characters. So here goes!
Chapter 123
The morning air was crisp and weak sunlight filtered through the tall oaks. It would be another few weeks before there would be even a hint of spring. The ground felt hard beneath his feet, but at least there was no snow. A brisk, twenty minute walk, had managed to wake him up good and proper, even though his old bones would have liked to stay in bed for just a little longer this morning, Balbir thought, but first things first. The scent of fresh brewed coffee hit his nostrils the moment he entered the kitchen. "Is he up yet?"
"You just missed him," Beth retorted, obviously annoyed at something. Balbir watched her pour out the rich brew, with raised eyebrows. She added the cream, but forgot the sweetener. "I made pancakes this morning, thinking it had been such a long time since he had breakfast at home. He politely refused, told me he wasn't hungry, as if anyone could survive on coffee alone." She paused to take a deep breath. "And then he apologized!" Beth spat, as though it were a rude word, her cheeks turning ruddier than usual. "You tell me, Mr. Tandon, if it is too much to expect him to eat more than one square meal a day at home? If this goes on for longer...I'll quit!" she finished in a huff.
Balbir's eyebrows shot higher. "You are not really going to do that." For a moment, he thought Beth would actually argue. Then she sighed. It was like watching a balloon deflate.
"You are right," she agreed. "But, Mr. Tandon...it's been two weeks." He nodded. Of course Balbir knew it had been precisely fifteen days since Atul had returned from his trip to Australia, almost all of which he had been spending at work or at home, locked up in his study. This side of Atul was not new, but it had never gotten to the point where he had time for little else. The only time Balbir saw anything of his son was at dinner. An hour they would spend, discussing all things possible. He did not need to know how witty Atul could be if he put his mind to it. What he needed to hear were the things that his son wasn't saying. If only Atul would quit pretending that everything was alright. "I'll speak with him," the older man said finally. "Do you need help with breakfast?"
Beth shook her head. He thanked her and walked out with his coffee, his thoughts dwelling on Atul. For the past few months, it had not been difficult to notice that something had changed with his son. The difference was more pronounced since his return from Sydney. Balbir had been debating about calling Meher and asking her. The two were such good friends. She had to know. An odd thought occurred to him and in the act of sipping his coffee, Balbir stilled. Something hadn't gone wrong between them...had it? Atul had remained mysteriously quiet about the three weeks spent in Australia and he had not breathed a word about seeing Meher. "Beth," Balbir said, walking back in the kitchen. "Have you noticed something different with Atul these past few months?" He wanted to be sure he wasn't barking up the wrong tree and a second opinion always helped.
The woman didn't really look surprised at the question. "It is not my place to say," Beth began cautiously. "But since you ask, I suspect it because he misses...Meher," she finished confidently. That Atul went to meet Meher every month had not exactly been a secret. "He has been a lot happier in the last three years." And Balbir agreed with that assessment wholeheartedly. Hope blossomed in his heart, wondering if Atul had actually gone and fallen in love. But would he be moping around over that? "Thank you," Balbir said, really meaning it.
Over the next couple of days, his patience was to be sorely tested. Atul was proving to be more slippery that the proverbial eel, although he suspected it was more by chance than design. He was therefore, somewhat taken aback, returning from his book club meet one evening, to find Atul stoking fire in the library. He struck a poignant pose, hunched before the fire, lost in thought. Balbir did not need to see his face to know what Atul dwelled on was personal and deeply painful. It was there to see, in the droop of his neck and the slight sag of his shoulders. He watched as Atul picked up a block of wood and threw it into the fire, his gaze lingering to see the flames eat up the wood. Balbir felt like a voyeur and his heart constricted. He squared his shoulders, more determined about finding out, than ever.
"My gosh," Balbir breezed into the library a second later. "It is a nice change from the cold outside." He beamed, hoping the weather talk didn't sound too lame. Atul straightened from his position and before he could say anything, Balbir continued. "I feel like some Scotch, to take the chill off the bones. Why don't you make us both a drink?"
Atul raised his eyebrows, but smiled. "Any excuse will do, uh?" For a moment Balbir really thought his son had seen through his plan. He saw Atul walk over to the corner bar and heaved a sigh of relief, realizing he referred to Balbir's liking for the drink.
"I am old enough to get away with it," he said, stacking the book on one of the many shelves and went over to sit by the fire. Instead of choosing the comfortable armchair, Balbir lowered himself on the thick carpet.
"You are not old and helpless, so quit pretending," Atul drawled, holding out a squat glass filled with amber liquid. Without bidding, Atul sat down beside his father.
"As long as I get what I want," Balbir said with a satisfied smile.
Atul's lips twisted wryly. He held out his glass. "What should we drink to?"
"You...for being a good son," his father answered immediately, not missing the shadow that crossed Atul's face. And then just as quickly it was gone, replaced by a slight grin.
"You haven't been such a bad father yourself," Atul said and touched his glass to Balbir's before taking the first sip. The two men sat there, shoulder to shoulder, nursing drinks in their hands, both apparently lost in thought. "It has been thirteen years since your mother died and I still remember it all like yesterday," Balbir started quietly, staring into the fire, but other visions played before his eyes. "I used to think that it was only a matter of time that my heart would give up the will to live without her. I wallowed in my misery, so much so that I let the self pity take over. Nothing else mattered..." He took a large gulp of his drink.
"Dad," Atul started, but Balbir hushed him.
"Let me speak," he said, glancing sideways, smiling. "And before I knew, a year had passed. Sanjana was blossoming under Gayatri's care and you...you had escaped to some far away place within. I couldn't reach you...didn't know how. You never spoke much about her after that. I would look at you and feel proud at how well you seemed to cope, even as I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind that I was taking the easy way out." He could feel Atul staring at him, but Balbir didn't look his way. "Your mother would be appalled at my neglect." He took a deep breath. "Well, I am not going to make the same mistake again." Balbir turned to face Atul. "I know you are hurting. Will you tell me why?" It was painful to see the carefully blanked look in his eyes. "I don't know if I can help..." Balbir let out a sigh of frustration. "I wish your mother were here...she was good at these things," he muttered. Atul was now staring deep into his near empty glass. The silence stretched for so long, that Balbir knew he had botched it all up. He drained his glass miserably.
"Where would you like me to start?" At first he wasn't sure if he had heard right.
Atul was now swirling the drink, still not looking up. "The beginning would be a good place to start," Balbir urged his son. "But I think we need more of this stuff," he said, getting up to bring the whole bottle, just in case they needed it.
Good...? Bad...? Ugly...? 😆 I would love to hear from you to see what you thought of this update!! 😃 Take care and see you later. Let's aim for a Friday update and let's see how good I am at keeping deadlines! 😆
Edited by sshekar - 16 years ago
Pushpa Impossible
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