Rope
“Believe in me, Rajeev. Just hold the ropes and fall forward slightly.” Asha gave measured instructions to Rajeev whose legs were shivering from fright stationed on wooden planks which rested on two parallel iron wires 20 feet above the ground. His hands were clammy inside big, rented gloves. His helmet was awry atop his head which was thumping harder than his pounding heart. Asha was perched on the platform at the end of this ropeway - her words confident but expression eager.
They were part of a big group spending a weekend getaway organized by their company. A high rope course meant to overcome your fears, forget the world, lose yourself in the serenity of nature. This course was testing Rajeev in manners he hadn’t imagined - one obstacle after another. The sun, which was especially scorching this February afternoon, didn’t help matters.
Rajeev believed in Asha; hesitatingly released the stiffness in his frame and fell forward as his hands bore most of his weight. Some of the nervous tension found its way out and he managed to walk - one heavy footstep at a time. When he finally reached the other end, Rajeev began to hug Asha out of relief but stopped midway. Asha jumped back in response, tucked a lock of her hair behind her right ear and scanned her surroundings. They hadn’t gone public yet.
Rock
Asha’s modest sandals slipped as she tried to navigate her way up a rock on the sea shore. Rajeev was quick to grasp her mid-fall. She smiled at Rajeev, who still had a full head of hair albeit grey. Evenings of retirement can be comfortably spent in one’s balcony or garden sipping coffee and complaining about the dismal state of affairs in the country but the Khannas were an adventurous duo. It was Asha’s idea to see the sunset at the beach today. They had visited this spot - their spot - hundreds of times in the past. The memories still echoed through time and the charm in either pair of eyes still shone bright.
Rajeev’s faithful umbrella provided him support as they climbed a little towards the top of the rock - just enough to avoid the waves drenching them. The sea’s calming face inspired a sense of peace as if someone had pressed the mute button on the traffic noise behind. The waves lashed against the rock face, sometimes pleasant and on other times, ferocious as if they mimicked the travails of life interspersed with joy and sorrow in varying measures.
Asha and Rajeev hadn’t any complaints about life. They had both retired from their jobs having saved up a small fortune for themselves. They were healthy despite some ailments that befriend old age. Their son lived and worked in another city. While they had a lot of friends and family around, they spent most days in each other’s company. They were each other’s magic - all very usual; all very middle class - not in the least the stuff of stories.
Responsibility
As usual, Asha and Rajeev returned home from the office together. Rajeev preferred his old motorbike to a car. It was easier to wade through rush hour traffic on a two wheeler.
“A car is so much safer. We should get one. Monsoons will begin soon too.” Asha quipped into Rajeev’s ear while they waited for the traffic light to turn green.
“This is much more romantic. Hold on tighter.” Rajeev joked side-stepping one more grown-up conversation. He revved the engine and they zoomed home.
Even though exhausted after a full day of work, Asha usually made tea for the both of them - a usual time to learn about each other's day.
“We are having a baby.” Asha let out; no preface, no easing in.
“WHAT!” Rajeev almost spat a mouthful of tea. He was flabbergasted. He couldn’t tell if it was happiness exactly. While he battled with his emotions trying to form a better response, Asha’s face had already turned redder than before.
“I knew it!” She said. “I knew you were not ready yet. Relax, bozo. We are not having a baby. I wanted to start this conversation with you.”
Rajeev’s face was more quizzical than before. Asha suddenly seemed mature to him. He still lived like they were dating or had extended their honeymoon. He felt responsible towards her but hadn’t given “family” a big enough thought.
“Rajeev, we should have our baby. It’s the right next step in our combined lives.” Asha came closer to him and held his hand.
He felt slightly cornered but Asha wasn’t wrong. “Ok, let’s think about it.” Finally Rajeev used words instead of facial expressions.
“Sure. Let’s.”
“What, now?”
“Of course.” Asha said, slightly losing her patience. “Let’s discuss it. A baby brings a lot of responsibility and it’s right to talk about it.”
“Exactly, why go through so much trouble while enjoying the prime of life?” Rajeev rebutted.
“Because this can’t be done when we are past our primes.” Asha reasoned.
“Then why do it at all?” Rajeev said it. He felt lighter and tense at the same time.
To Rajeev’s surprise, Asha wasn’t indignant. “Baby, a small child is the most precious gift from God - our one true creation - a part of you, a part of me. A mini human to cherish and rejoice with, see them grow, guide them as they bloom into young adults.”
“I understand what you say. But look around us! Aren’t we already seven billion plus? Isn’t this world already shouldering enough human beings? Why do we want to subject a gentle soul to this harsh, unforgiving world? Why do we just jump on the bandwagon? Only to fit in? Many couples nowadays are not having children.”
Asha realized that this conversation needed more time. Rajeev needed more time. “While there might be umpteen reasons not to, just one reason is enough for us to take the jump.” Asha closed out the topic for now.
Rajeev realized he had gone too far. “What would you name her?” he smiled.
“Avantika or Abhinav”. Asha smiled back.
She knew he was only amusing her.
Repose
“Abhi, please eat just a little bit. We have a long journey ahead.” Asha was pleading with her 3 year old son. They were sitting on a blue bench outside an idli shop at a bus stand. The bus was about to start soon for the final leg of their journey.
“Asha, I can’t find the medicine.” Rajeev looked up from his bag aghast. Abhishek had been having a hard time in buses over the entire trip. The winding roads were wreaking havoc on the small child amping up his motion sickness.
“Ah, found it.” Rajeev extricated the medicine triumphantly from a side pocket of his bag. Abhi had a few small morsels of food and was given the medicine against violent protests. Both parents soothed their little baby down as the journey finally started.
An hour into the drive, Abhishek had drifted to sleep and the young couple began talking about their first holiday in three years, life in general and what the future held for them. “We shouldn’t have come for a holiday?” questioned Rajeev. He was distressed by the ordeal his son was going through.
“He is happily napping. We’ll be home soon with memories of our first holiday as a family.” Asha was her practical self. The past few years had seen a flurry of events - working parents with a small child in a city growing faster than a human.
“Having a child is like the extra curricular activities schools advise apart from regular courses.” Rajeev joked.
“Yes, Mr. Project Manager. It is the biggest project you’ll handle in your entire life.” Asha added. “Don’t look for extra investment. Keep your head down and meet your deadlines.”
“And what about return on investment?” Rajesh looked towards their future together; joking yet slightly thoughtful.
“Love, respect and nostalgia.” Asha replied; comforting herself at the same time.
Recall
“Rajeev, come quickly. Abhi is calling.” Asha called out. It was late evening in India and Abhishek was video-calling his parents from the US. He had been away from home for quite a few years now. Strides in technology were helping overcome the growing physical distances of this little family.
“How are you both doing?” Abhishek, concerned, as always for his parents. He seemed to be sitting in a park.
“Son, never worry about us old folks. Enjoy life and look towards the future.” Rajeev reassured his son with his usual answer. Abhishek knew his dad all too well. He had never shared a shred of pain with his son in all these years. This had given Abhishek a positive outlook towards life, however a protected and polarized one.
“On that thought, let me share something. There is no easy way to do this...” Abhishek sounded slightly tentative.
Asha was quick to address his hesitation. “It’s ok, beta. Go on, tell us.”
A girl entered the frame. “Naamustay.” She grinned and folded her hands together in the best possible Indian greeting she could execute.
“Papa, mummy. I wanted you to meet Katie.” Abhishek blushed but was comforted by his girlfriend’s sporting nature and self introduction.
Rajeev and Asha were taken aback at the sudden appearance of a fourth person. They looked at each other and both smiled.
“Nice to e-meet you, Katie.” Rajeev, still smiling, used his son’s lingo. Asha nodded in agreement.
The knot tightened in Rajeev’s stomach. He knew the long distance relationship with their son was here to stay.
Rendezvous
The doorbell rang announcing the guests at the Khannas’ residence for the evening. The house seemed ready for hosting - most of the lights glowed yellow reflecting off decor and furniture, old as their users yet sturdy and upright. Their house was always ready, always orderly - old folks’ houses always are.
Rajeev opened the door and exclaimed, “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Rajeev Kumar! It’s great to have you over.” Rajeev entered, visibly amused and enthralled at the chance encounter that had led to this rendezvous. Asha followed him in tow, bigger than before - 7 months pregnant.
“Asha, meet our younger versions, another ‘Asha and Rajeev’.” He was smiling from ear to ear.
It was all very coincidental. Rajeev was looking to sell his old car as his son, Abhishek insisted they switch to a safer, modern car. Among the interested parties was the younger Rajeev - Rajeev Kumar. Both Rajeevs shook on the deal. When they initiated the paperwork, Rajeev Kumar came to know that the car’s title was in Asha Khanna’s name. The pleasant coincidence of namesakes led to a hearty exchange of notes and a dinner invitation.
Asha hugged the younger Asha delightedly as if she was meeting her daughter. While they shared some anecdotes from their past with each other, the topic eventually moved to children. Rajeev talked about his son, Abhishek - living so far away. While he was hopeful for his son’s future, the lament in his tone was somehow conspicuous. As much as he was proud of his son’s station in society, he would have loved it if they could dine together every evening too. Still, Rajeev knew they were not the only lonely parents in the city or the country.
Since the topic was palpable, the younger Rajeev continued the lament. “Few years of courtship. Few years of living the DINK life. Then your life revolves around a small child for a few more years, ensuring their upbringing, their education, prepping them for the big bad world and their futures - giving them wings. Wings so they can fly as they become adults.“
“And then, wait -- near the phone for a call that always seems to end too quickly or for those half-yearly or annual visits during festivals. Most parents undergo the same fate. What do they get in return?”
“Love, respect and nostalgia.” The younger Asha said, transfixed.
The Khannas fondly remembered an old bus ride.
