The Fault in their Stars

He would sneak moments of deep breath as his sun burnt arms would break through the placid cool waters in sweltering summer afternoons, the cotton clouds would smile down on him. They still did, except he could no longer scale the river like he could when he was young, or whirl a tornado of dust on the football ground while racing with the ball towards the goal. He still enjoyed his summer, Thank God, one didn't have to be young to have mangoes!

Apu lay in front of him one her stomach, her hands resting her cheeks, she was pouring over some book. Her lips twitched in slight smile as she remained oblivious to the oppressive heat in the room. He felt proud and also jealous. That book must be something. He wished he could not have a care in the world, and could also hoist his frame aimlessly pouring over some print on the floor like his daughter did now. Her brows creased a bit, he frowned too.

Aparna? He called out with the voice he reserved just for her. She looked up. Adrija stared back at him. How could he ever forget those eyes. He remembered the very first time he had laid his eyes on them. They were angry, very angry.

They were one among the thousand pair of burning eyes in a rally protesting the encounter of some young student in the university. The police had declared him a Naxalite and that somehow gave them the permission to ruthlessly shoot him while he tried walking briskly along the same path that he crossed to reach his classes every morning. He was concerned too, but he could never bring himself to match the fervent voices of those who marched in the rally, who looked like their brother had been killed. Adrija was one them. Red with anger and the flush of walking from a long time, her olive skin glistened with sweat. He could not have helped but stared at her, she had felt his eyes on her too and had stared back. Angry first, although he could see a hint of fear creeping up in her stature, as if she was afraid of him. He had wanted to walk straight to her and reassure her. He had never wanted to protect anyone so badly.

They had married a few years later. They were different people. She had strong opinions about almost everything. She cared about the entire world. He did not like thinking about things that did not cross him. For him, what was more important was that he made the most out of what was available to him, and lead a comfortable life. But that had never stopped them from loving each other. They have found different worlds in each other. Worlds they had never thought existed. His was the blue sky, her's was it's turbulent crimson form. The day Aparna was born, their joy knew no bounds. The first thing the Doctor Dada had come out and said was, "She has her mother's eyes!"

He was brought back from the reverie with Apu tugging at his sleeve. He picked her up on his lap. She stared at him imploringly, as if she understood what he felt, which was astonishing as she was just 7. Yet all the times when he called her and said nothing in return  she had never been restless or impatient, she showed the patience of an old saint, staring at him, reassuring him. He kissed her on her cheeks, and held her lightly, he always took care while holding her, she seemed so fragile to him. Apu turned around and smiled at him. "Baba, What is the matter?", she asked innocently. "Nothing Shona", he said, reciprocating with a tired smile. "Let's go and watch the number of mangoes on the tree today? What say?", Aparna jumped out of his lap at the proposition, and almost dragged him out of the room. He looked back once before leaving the room, he always did, always with the hope that Adrija would be standing by the window, smiling at whatever enchanted her outside. She had the soul of a bird that always yearned for the sky outside. The room looked lifeless and stifling. Maybe Adrija had joined the birds, maybe she was flying somewhere with the wind, maybe she was trying to mend the fault in their stars!