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Manthan had his head pressed against Kabir's chest, his fingers holding the sides of Kabir as the oldest Raheja was gently massaging his scalp, making him smile. He liked the feeling of being treated like a King. After all, who didn't?
Manthan was not the one who got frustrated from extra-pampering. He was the one who demanded it the most, in a way that often left the saint with no patience. He leaned further in Kabir's embrace and smiled at his father, who shook his head.
"You're the first child, I am seeing, who gets happy after getting sick, Manthan. Mujhe toh lagta hai bachpan main I might have dropped you on your head." Kabir said, and Manthan's eyes widened in mock offense as he pulled himself away, and glared at him, playfully, mischievously, and narrowed his eyes at him.
"Careful there, Baba, aaj ke din taunts bhaare padenge aapko. Aapko pata hai na, I have an army ready to fight for me? Ek aawaz dunga, and you'd be after you." Manthan threatened him, and Kabir raised his eyebrows at his oldest child, and shook his head.
"Bimaar hai na tu? Lete rahe, and sleep. Sometimes I feel, when you fell sick, you get even more bratty. You're almost twenty-three, beta. Can you, for once, behave your age?" Kabir asked him, and Manthan rolled his eyes, and jumped away from him, and settled against the pillows and stretched his limbs.
"Exactly, I am just twenty-three. Don't behave like I am forty or fifty already. And can you pass me the remote, Baba? Please?" Manthan asked him cheekily, and Kabir glared at him.
The remote was just beside his legs. The boy was not even moving. And Manthan was anything but lazy. He was doing everything deliberately. And he knew Manthan wouldn't stop until he would scold him at the end of the day.
"Haan bahut dur rakha hai na? Sri-Lanka main remote rakha hai, aur aap toh Kashmir main baithe ho. Stop behaving like a spoilt kid, Manthan. Bigad raha hai tu." Kabir said, but handed him the remote, and then got the blanket out and gently put it over his feet and covered his chest with it, making Manthan smile.
"Dekho dekho bol kon raha hai? As if you were not the one who spoiled me. And if you really wish to complain, Mr. Raheja, you can complain to my father. You see he has spoilt me rotten. Abhi bhi dekho, mera na poha khaane ka man kar raha hai. And see, he will cook it for me. With a cup of ginger tea." Manthan said, and Kabir got up and was about to whack him gently when Manthan screamed.
And the moment he screamed, he started coughing. Hardik, Nikhil, and Adhir rushed down as soon as they heard Manthan screaming. And Manthan never screamed. Except Nikhil, everybody were unaware of the drama that was about to unfold.
"Kya hua, Bhaiya? Aap chillaye kyu?" Hardik asked Manthan, and Manthan started coughing more, this time to give effect to his drama.
"Baba maar rahe hai, yaar. Ek toh mera gala already dukh raha hai. And all I asked him was to cook poha for me. Aur ek cup chai. For my sore throat. Uske liye bhi koi maarta hai bacche ko? Koi baat nahi, Hari, you see, koi dukh main saath nahi deta, nobody loves you for your sick days. Tum log bhi chai piyoge? I will go and cook for myself." Manthan said, his voice was already hoarse, but at the moment Manthan sounded sad.
But Manthan was busy to keep himself from bursting into chuckles.
"You'll cook?" Hardik asked him, worried, and Manthan sadly nodded his head.
YOU ARE READING
Qurbat, Near You
General FictionSEQUEL OF AJNABI (Book 2) Adhir Jadhav never desired anything more than having someone who would love him endlessly. But when differences with his sister grows, and things get out of hand, enough to push Adhir to almost take his own life, a savior d...
