Katha Ankahee Flash Fiction

Homecoming

He heard a muffled thump. A beat later, "Monkey, careful!".

It was a soundscape long etched in memory – as familiar to him as the rumble of thunder that followed lightning.

The budget he was reviewing could have all turned to zeroes and he wouldn't have noticed. He couldn't think past the sudden heat in his palms, the squeeze of his gut, the trip in his heart.

Was he really giddy at seeing them? After barely a half-day apart?

"Roooooobin!"

The door burst open and 12 years of sweaty boy bounded his way. He was already mid-conversation, complaining about the annoying employee at the gaming center who had refused to accept his points on a totally unfair technicality...

"Aarav, bath. Now!" Katha bustled in, juggling three bags.

"You won all of these?" He strode over to relieve her load, "No wonder they had to stop you, Batman."

"This is nothing! If they hadn't cheated, I would have had enough to buy the comic set. It had that Phantom edition too...the one you always tell me about? I wanted to surprise you and read it together."

His throat tightened so painfully, he couldn't speak.

Only swoop down. And hug his boy tight, tight, tight.

"I'll ask Teji Daadi to check the storeroom in her house, okay? I'm sure she'll find one," he felt Aarav soften against him.

Katha often joked about how easy it was to overwhelm him. Sometimes all it took was a kind word here, a thoughtful gesture there. But that wasn't fair. She had more than a decade of experience learning to deal with the fact that a part of your heart would forever live outside you.

A man needed some time wrapping his head around that.

"Now," he gave an exaggerated sniff. "Mumma was right. You could really use that bath."

"What? Nooo! Robin, you too?" Aarav squirmed away from his hold, but he was giggling.

"I really have to?" At his parents' nod, he gave a long-suffering sigh. Then, dutifully traipsed to his room.

Katha was curled up on one side of the couch, watching him.

"No hug for me, Mr. Raghuvanshi?"

Her hair had come loose from its braid, her cheeks rust-tinged from a day out in the sun. But those eyes...always shining, shining, shining.

Ah. There was the other piece of his soul.

He lightly stroked the dimple in her chin.

"No hug for you, Mrs. Raghuvansh" he whispered, before leaning down for a kiss.

That was the thing about souls, he had learned. They wandered. But they would always find their way home.