"See, Varun," he started, "I had a huge speech prepared as I followed you but now that it's time for me to actually say that, my tongue is pretending to be paralysed just at the mere thought of giving a 'super dad' speech. So just pretend that I gave some overwhelming emotional talk, totally brushing off the stern front I put in the afternoon yeah?"
I laughed before nodding but stopped when I remember my mother. "What about amma?"
He winked. "She's pretending to be oblivious to your escapade."
I knew my parents would cool off but I seriously didn't expect it to be this soon. Jeez, they're weirder than me.
"Then why not simply use the front gates?"
He patted my shoulders again gravely. "Because using the front door won't give you stories to tell your grandchildren. Now go, make a star crossed lovers story!"
I smiled. To tell the truth, I was a sappy dude. All emotional and sentimental but seeing my parents being this supportive just made my eyes sweat a little. Blame the warm night. "Grandpa was like this too?" I asked punching his stomach mildly.
He gave a small smile, a little sad and bittersweet. "You could say I wanted your grandpa to be like this," he said, a twinkle in his eyes. "Now, shoo."
He chucked the cardigan at me and I caught it effortlessly. I shot him a thumbs up before climbing the tree by the corner and jumped to the other side.
I would say that I landed like a cat, all graceful and skilled but I bet you all guessed that though I landed on my feet without much intensity that could give me a fracture, I rolled a little before bumping into some motorcycle parked on the other side of the road.
Ignoring the bearable pain that shot through my arm, I ran.
*
*
*
The first thing I noticed when I reached the small park was Kiranya.
She was sitting on one of the swings, swaying a little, her eyes trained on the darkness in front of her. The residential area surrounding the park was quiet with not a lingering soul outside and I thanked the heavens for giving the privacy we needed.
Seriously, dealing with the judgmental look of Indian adults is something I'm not ready to deal with.
When she saw me jogging towards her, she hopped off the swing and slowly walked towards me, watching my every move as I doubled over, gasping for air and panting like a dog.
"You're not going to die, are you?"
She even had the audacity to sound teasing and I tried to give her my topmost death glare. Key word: tried. Because when I looked at her, as cheesy as it sounds, seeing her worry-free face which clashed with her tear stricken face from the morning, I turned all gooey inside.
She lead me to the swings. When she didn't make an attempt to talk, I came with a lame conversation starter.
"Is uncle okay with you coming here at night?"
Kiranya didn't reply and when I looked at her, I found her looking at me, poker face on. I sighed internally. Back to stage one.
"I'm sorry. I should've figured you wouldn't reply to any of my ques—"
"He doesn't know."
"—tions by now. Wait—what?"
"He doesn't know," she repeated but continued, "he was sleeping so I left a note."
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Crossroads | ✓
HumorPreviously known as 'Booktrovert.' ________ Not all boys are cool, Hot, and can flirt like a pro. Most of them are lame, Stutter, take hours to master a quiff, Or even obsess over a certain sadistic anonymous writer on wattpad. But life isn't just...
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