Shadows Of The Stumps

Not For The Weak

Back in Mumbai, the morning was tender and slow, wrapped in a faint chill that lingered even as the sun rose higher. The birds in the garden had taken up their morning raga, chirping softly as the breeze ruffled the bougainvillea along the stone wall. Inside the house, however, one very reluctant human was being dragged out of her cocoon of sleep.

“Bhai…” Meera mumbled, still swaddled in her oversized hoodie, hair in a sleepy mess, blanket slipping from her lap as Arjun wheeled her out into the garden, “please, just five more minutes…”

“Nope,” Arjun replied, not even glancing down. “Five minutes turn into fifteen, and then you’ll fake an ankle sprain or start quoting physics to avoid lunges.”

Meera groaned dramatically, flopping back in her seat like a defeated potato. “Why are you like this? You’re supposed to be the nice sibling.”

“I was, until you made me your recovery warden,” Arjun replied flatly, helping her down gently onto the grass mat laid out in the sunshine. “Now sit. Be good. I’m going to get your water bottle.”

She grumbled something incoherent but didn’t protest further. Arjun ruffled her hair before heading back inside.

For a moment, Meera sat perfectly still on the mat, blinking sleepily at the sun-drenched garden. The air smelled like freshly mown grass and something vaguely floral. The birds were too cheerful. She was seconds away from curling up on the mat and going back to sleep when—

“Avika Meera Rahul!”

Meera’s eyes snapped open.

Athiya.

Standing by the garden steps, baby Eva in her pram and Luna, the loyal golden retriever, on leash, both staring straight at Meera like tiny bodyguards with a mission. Athiya was already making her way over, her motherly energy in full form.

“Why do I feel like I’m about to get grounded?” Meera whispered to herself.

“Caught you,” Athiya said, folding her arms, eyebrow raised. She bent down and pinched Meera’s ear gently.

“Ow—sorry ma!” Meera said immediately, the words rolling off her tongue like an old childhood reflex. Athiya smirked in triumph.

She turned to Eva next. “Evu baby, Mumma is going inside to get your milk, okay? Till then, keep an eye on your naughty Akkudu bua. Make sure she does all her exercises. And Luna, you’re her assistant today.”

Luna straightened up as if she understood her official new role.

Athiya leaned in to kiss Eva’s forehead and whispered something in baby talk before heading off inside, leaving the three behind. As she disappeared into the house, Meera let out a sigh, stretching her legs gingerly.

And there they were.

Her watchdogs.

Eva blinking from her pram with wide curious eyes, her little cheeks like soft cotton balls. And Luna, tail wagging gently, sat right beside her like a silent guardian.

“Okay… fine,” Meera muttered. “Let’s stretch.”

The first few were simple. Ankle rotations, hamstring stretches, breathing work. She could feel her muscles slowly wake up, even as her eyelids begged her to crawl back into bed. When she paused after the fifth one, taking a little too long a break, she dared a glance toward Eva.

Big mistake.

Eva was watching her. Intensely. Almost judging.

“Wow,” Meera said softly, scandalized. “You really are your mother’s daughter.”