With a faint yet determined smile, Atharv walked to his cupboard, retrieving a bundle of papers. The first paper bore the words, "What does a signature mean?" His Baba had instructed him to spend two hours each day delving into the significance of signatures and their broader implications. This routine persisted for three months.
By the end of this period, Atharv not only grasped the notion that a signature represents an identity but also understood the profound responsibility that comes with signing for something. The quirky yet impactful method became an indelible lesson, a symbol of a father's innovative approach to instilling values and accountability in his son.
After the end of three months, His Baba told to him in no clear words that if this breach of trust happens once again, Atharv himself will be responsible for all his actions, signing all the forms himself, taking his own responsibility.
Atharv, having traversed the challenging terrain of redemption, carried this unspoken warning as a constant reminder of the consequences that loomed should he falter again.
In the aftermath, his relationship with his Baba underwent a transformation. The authoritative figure, who had momentarily become a disciplinarian, gradually reverted to the familiar role of a friend. What had once been a fatherly persona transformed into a more nuanced connection, bridging the gaps that had emerged during their testing times.
He was startled out his thoughts when Akshara called him again.
He walked down like a man he is but hugged his mother from back who is serving Akshay.
"I love you, Akshu"
Akshara, in her early 40s, looking still same, smiled. Her eldest child never forgets to say those three magical words every day, making her feel special. She turned around and kissed his forehead "Love you too bacha! Sit. Tere favourites hai aaj."
Atharv sat down with a smile. There never went a day his favourites aren't cooked. He took a bite "Baba kaha hai?"
Akshay chipped in "Papa Amu ke sath hai."
Atharv looked at his brother "Aur Amu kaha hai?"
Akshara "Tu kha. Uska project hai. Tere Baba help kar rahe hai use."
Atharv couldn't help but chuckle "Last minute?"
Akshara smirked "Beti kiski hai?"
A shared laugh echoed in the room, encapsulating the warmth of their familial bonds.
Abhimanyu, in his early 50s, who walked down at the same time, with his 10 yr old daughter, Amyra in his arms, was greeted with these laughs. He let Amyra carefully sit on a chair and sat in the chair next to her.
"Kya baat hai? Aaj Maa beta bahut kush hai?"
Akshara with a playful smile "Nothing Professor Birla!"
And that was enough for Abhimanyu to guess the joke they might have shared. He shook his head "Bigaad diya tumne meri beti ko, Akshara. Sare assignmnets and projects last minute hi batati hai."
Abhimanyu spoke feeding his daughter who by now shifted onto his lap with a sheepish smile.
Akshara spoke "Mere Bete ko tumne bhi bigaad diya na. He locks himself in that stupid libray. Sachi bata rahi hu. I will lock that library and throw the keys away"
"Books padna achi baat hoti hai, Akshara/Mumma"
Akshay and Abhimanyu spoke at the same time making Atharv laugh!
"How Boring Abhi/Papa"
Amyra and Akshara chipped in much to Atharv's delight!
After a satisfying dinner, the family congregated in the living room for a cozy movie night. Atharv found a comfortable spot on the floor, resting his head on Abhimanyu's lap, who affectionately ran his fingers through his son's hair. Akshara leaned against her husband, holding onto his bicep, creating a connection that spoke of years of shared love and understanding. Little Amyra settled herself onto Atharv's lap, and on the other side, Akshay snuggled into Abhimanyu. The room echoed with the warmth of familial bonds, as the family prepared to enjoy a movie together.
By the time the movie concluded, the gentle embrace of sleep had claimed Akshay and Amyra. Atharv, with a careful tenderness, lifted his little sister and carried her to his room, a place they often shared for nighttime repose. Abhimanyu, with fatherly affection, guided Akshay to his room, ensuring his son was comfortably settled into his bed. Before leaving, Abhimanyu placed a tender kiss on Akshay's forehead.
As Abhimanyu moved to Atharv's room to wish him a good night, Akshara trailed behind him. The room, dimly lit, felt serene. However, their calm was disrupted as Abhimanyu stepped into the room and found himself enveloped in a tight bear hug. Surprise flickered in his eyes, but he reciprocated the embrace, a silent understanding passing between father and son. Akshara observed Atharv with curiosity, sensing that the boy had something important to share.
As anticipated, Atharv gently pulled back from the hug and uttered,
"I have something to tell, Baba."
Abhimanyu, cupping his son's face, encouraged him to speak, "Bolo bacha"
Atharv, intertwining his fingers with Abhimanyu and Akshara's hands, took a deep breath and confessed, "I am in love."
Abhimanyu and Akshara exchanged surprised glances, their expressions transitioning from curiosity to joy as Atharv revealed his newfound emotion. A shared smile bloomed on their faces, a reflection of the happiness that enveloped them in that moment.
Abhimanyu ruffled Atharv's hair affectionately. "In love, huh?" he teased gently, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, tell us all about it."
Akshara, her eyes sparkling with maternal affection, spoke with a hint of teasing, "Is she nice, Aru? Do we get to meet her soon? What's her name?" Her tone held a mixture of excitement and genuine interest.
Atharv, basking in the positive reception of his revelation, couldn't help but laugh. It was a moment of shared happiness, a celebration of love in all its forms within the walls of Birla Mansion.
"Aradhya! Aradhya Vikram Aditya Iyer!!"
Abhimanyu and Akshara looked at each other with surprise.
In the timeless tapestry of Birla Mansion, each thread wove a tale of love, redemption, and growth. As the pages turned and chapters unfolded, the family transcended challenges, finding strength in unity and solace in shared laughter. The architectural beauty of their home mirrored the intricacies of their relationships, standing testament to the enduring spirit of the Birla family. In the gentle glow of the mansion's windows, their story continued, a testament to the unwavering bonds that weathered storms and celebrated triumphs.
As they stepped into a new tomorrow, the legacy of Birla Mansion lived on, etched in the hearts of those who called it home.
THE END
Meet you all in my second book "Pixels and Parenting"
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