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Yudhishthir barely noticed the shout of “Baba, catch!” before the ball landed right on the papers he was looking over. The papers fell to the floor, saving them from the toppling inkpot, which spilled all over the table. The king grimaced, and picked up the ink stained ball at the parts where it wasn’t covered in black, and set it aside.
“That wasn’t very nice, Vindhya,” he admonished.
“I wanted to test your weflexes!” Prativindhya exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to make your papers fall!”
“Where’d you learn that word? And where’s Sutasoma? Why don’t you go play with him for now, and I’ll come once my work is done?” Yudhishthir asked.
“He’s playing with the baby. I don’t want to play with the baby, all he does is cry and sleep and poop!” Vindhya pouted. “Everyone likes the baby, no one pays any attention to me, and I don’t like the baby!” his lips quivered and his voice rose in a crescendo. He crept to Yudhishthir’s chair, looking up at his father, and said in a tiny voice, his eyes welling up with tears “Does that make me a bad brother?”
He had sworn never to lie. He had sworn never to speak anything that wasn't the complete truth. No omissions, half-truths, or flattery left his lips. But there were some questions to which there never was a clear answer. He was often criticised for hemming and hawing over those types of questions. But what people didn’t realise was that he hesitated only because he didn’t have enough expertise. Vindhya too, asked him many questions, some he couldn’t find an answer for. But right now, his son had posed him a question which he could answer without any hesitation. He lifted Prativindhya and sat him on his lap.
“You could never be a bad brother. It’s okay if you don’t want to play with the baby right now if you don’t want to. But you do need to apologise to your uncle for calling Shatanik a crybaby and a poopyhead.”
“Alwight,” Prativindhya said. “But there’s no one to play with me!”
“How about you spend the day with me? You can come with me to my meetings, and after they are over, we can go to the garden!”
Prativindhya nodded emphatically, curling closer into his father to agree. Calling a servant over, Yudhishthir asked him to clean up the mess and bring the papers over to the meeting rooms.
Prativindhya listened to the meetings with rapt attention, his eyes and ears wide open. He didn’t really understand some of the big words they said, but that was okay, he’d just ask father later. Later. For now he looked at all of the courtiers, quietly taking in everything they said.
There was the health minister, Udit. He was youngish, a man father had appointed while Uncle Nakul was on leave, on his recommendation. He was quite skilled, and a stickler for hygiene, and was highly trusted by Uncle.
Uncle Sahadev was also there in the meeting, ‘I’m Amatya,’ he said with a soft smile when Vindhya asked him why he was there. “It means I handle the administration and the money!”
“Sahadev, please, focus on the meeting!” father said from the head of the table. They both shot him an apologetic look.
Then there was a man he did not like, called Manas. He seemed to lack what he was named after. And little vindhya had inherited his father’s dislike for flattery. So when the man tried to pinch his cheeks, he made angry faces at him. And he had the audacity to call him ‘cute’. He was not cute ! He was a prince! He was the crown prince! And he was angry! But he didn’t huff or puff or cry. Father had told him to behave, so he behaved.
They discussed important things. Like the traders squabbling with the vaidyas, and the travellers and weavers finally reaching an agreement.
Yudhishthir stood up after the meeting, only to find his son missing. He sighed and rolled his eyes, and bent down to look under the table. “Vindhya, come out, I know you have lots of questions about the meeting!”
A hand pulled at his dhoti from behind. “Baba, why doesn’t manas have a brain?”
With great difficulty, Yudhishthir bit back his smile. “Well, what makes you say that?”
“He wanted to ask the physicians to move!”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“If they’re too far away, people will die!”
“Right. But they are getting into brawls on the street, this is not a fight for Udit to handle. He is still inexperienced. We will speak to Uncle Nakul tonight, okay?”
“Can I come?”
Yudhishthir thought for a second. Vindhya liked his father’s thinking face. It was very funny, and he knew he was about to get an answer whenever his father had that face.
“Alright,” Yudhishthir sighed. “Now, who wants to go to the garden? My meeting is over!”
“Can we? Please?”
“Now, on our way, why don’t you do your counting?”
Vindhya began counting, starting from one, all the way till he reached a HUNDRED!!
“Skip by twos, now.”
“But why?????”
“Just do it,” Yudhishthir said flatly.
“Alwight, two, four, six-” and he went on and on, ALL THE WAY TILL EIGHTY!
“Wasn’t that awesome?”
“Well it is quite basic mathematics, and you didn’t reach till hundred, but you did a good job. Except for the part where you accidentally said twenty-seven instead of twenty-six.”
“But how does it work !”
“I’ll tell you later, you spilled all my ink today! I’ll have to get a new inkpot!”
“IT IS A PAPER AND PEN QUESTION??” Prativindhya exclaimed, a bit too loudly. “Can I play with you tomorrow too?”
“I can’t play with you tomorrow, son. But I will ask Uncle Sahadev, okay?”
“He’ll be busy with the baby!”
“What have I told you about making assumptions?”
“Don’t make them.”
Prativindhya talked and talked as they made their way to the garden, never stopping.
“....and then the bullocks will do that,”
“Do what?”
“What they promised, you know, earlier in the story!”
“What did they promise?” Yudhishthir asked him.
“......I don’t know” Prativindhya pouted. “But yes, they did that, and then everyone was happy, and then a nice queen came along,”
“Where did the queen come from?”
“She was always there.”
“And what did she do?”
“She made everyone even MORE happy!”
Yudhishthir sighed.
“.......Alright. Now, how about we play some nice outdoor games that we couldn’t play this morning? Let me send someone in to get your toys!”
For a while, the king played with the prince, the burdens of their duties forgotten as the birds flew across the trees and the sky went from blue to pink to orange to purple until-
“Baba, I’m hungwy!”
“It’s getting dark, we should go inside anyways,”
“But I want to play!!”
“Do you want to eat or not?”
“I wanna play!” Prativindhya whined again.
“Fine, a little bit more, but then we’re going back inside,” He acquiesced.
“NOO!”
Yudhishthir wasn’t going to sink down to bribery. Yudhishthir was NOT. He was a righteous person, he was a good person, and he was NOT going to bribe his son to get him inside after taking him to the gardens, no matter how exhausted he was, he was NOT-
“If you come inside as soon as I ask you to, we can go and ask uncle Bheem to make kheer for you,”
“With the almonds???” Prativindhya’s face lit up in the dying sun. “Deal!”
“Why don’t we go inside and tell him, so he can prepare?”
“Alwight,” he said.
Yudhishthir couldn’t stand to see the sad little pout on his son’s face, and swung him up in the air. When he was thrown up, Vindhya shrieked with laughter, still smiling when he was back in his father’s arms. No matter how many times Yudhishthir did it, Prativindhya laughed and smiled each time like it was the first time he was experiencing the funny little feeling in his stomach.
Finally Yudhishthir began walking back to the palace. He adjusted Prativindhya so he was comfortable, and Vindhya, in turn, looked visibly comfortable, pressing his curls into his father’s neck.
“Uncle bheem, uncle bheem!”
Bheem, when he heard the voice of his eldest nephew, ran forward and held an arm out. Prativindhya jumped, hanging onto Bheem’s arm and swinging around.
“Baba said you’d make kheer today!”
“I said, if you agreed to come inside when I said so and politely requested your uncle to make kheer for you, then you could have kheer for dinner,”
“Fine,” Prativindhya huffed. “Uncle, could you please make that kheer you make? With the almonds?”
“Of course squirt, do you want to watch me while I make it?” Bheem asked.
Yudhishthir sighed.
Prativindhya nodded so hard that his headband came off and fell down. Swinging his arms, and by extension, his nephew, Bheem strode toward the kitchen.
Yudhishthir picked up the headband from where it had fallen and set it aside, and sat down on a chair. Kids sure had energy. He was glad Bheem not only offered to make the kheer, but also took Vindhya for a bit. It was past sunset, Sutasoma was asleep by now. Three year olds slept earlier than five year olds. When he was sure that Bheem was out of sight, he let out an exhausted sigh and slouched. Every year that Prativindhya got older reminded him of how much he missed Arjun. He had left in the dead of the night, and he probably didn’t even know he had three nephews running around the palace now. A ghost of a smile flitted across Yudhishthir’s face like a butterfly settling on a bloody bruise.
Arjun was terrible with kids. He’d just stand awkwardly as they pestered him and then got overwhelmed and called for his big brother. Yudhishthir liked children. His love for his younger brothers may have been born out of duty, but somewhere along the way, those little tykes had wormed their way into his heart. And he couldn’t help but be kind to all children after that. They were just little humans, still trying to make sense of the world. That’s why he never felt annoyed at Prativindhya’s questions, even when they got a little incessant. He loved that his boy had inherited his curiosity. He didn’t remember being this annoying, though. He was too quiet, too scared to step out of line. But Vindhya was talkative, he was That was good. It meant that Vindhya was comfortable enough to be annoying and talkative and his life was not in danger every moment and- Wait, did he willingly consent to giving his already energetic child more sugar?
Someone was shaking him awake.
“Dada, I was searching all over for you! Did you fall asleep or something?”
Yudhishthir sat up. Rubbing his eyes, he yawned, “I think, yes,”
“Dinner is ready, let’s go eat,” Sahadev said gently. “I miss him too,” he pushed. “But that doesn’t mean we stop living our lives, does it? He’ll be back, he will find a house full of nephews and nieces, he will have children, everything will go on as normal. Right? Come on, the kheer is for all of us, you need to deal with the energetic night owl called Prativindhya!”
“Fine, I’m coming!”
“And I have news for you all. Which I need everyone together for.” Sahadev said, and with a flourish of his hand led his brother to the dining room.
Bheem and Prativindhya were already there, a bib around the latter’s neck.
Nakul looked tired, and at risk of falling into his plate at any moment. Yudhishthir hoped he wouldn’t, the vegetables were spicy and the rice was hot.
“Nakul, oh god, you look horrible!” Sahadev said in faux-shock.
“Hnnnnngh,” Nakul grunted.
“Are those eyebags?” Bheem pressed on.
“Lay off, you two. Bheem, you have definitely looked worse the last two times you were doing this. And Sahadev, don’t talk about things you don’t know.”
Maybe, when the baby was grown-up, he’d stop Soma from teasing him. That was what an elder brother did right? Absently, he thought, ‘but only once the baby is grown-up.’
“Sahadev,” Bheem said, swallowing his rice, “You said you had news?”
“Well,” Sahadev smiled. “What’s that girl’s name? Nitya, yes, she sent word that the prince and princess are arriving,”
“Yuvaraj Dhrishtadyumna is visiting?” Bheem perked up at the possibility of his friend visiting. “Yuvarajni would be a great help,” he tacked on as an afterthought.
“No, they are not the ones coming. Prince Shikhandi is, and so is Princess Shalaka,” Sahadev said calmly.
“Mami is coming???????” Vindhya said, his volume increasing in his excitement. “When is she getting here can she sleep in my room can she teach me cool things can she tell me stories can she-”
Yudhishthir cursed himself and wondered if it was inappropriate to wish for death. Prativindhya was going to ask for stories again, wasn’t he?
But then, Yudhishthir remembered his own childhood. Would he have behaved like this kaka or grandfather? No, right? Why he let his son behave like this was something he often contemplated. But it all came down to this. He was not going to let his son grow up like him. There would be guards shadowing him day and night, not frequent attempts on his life. He would have a father who indulged him, not his own desires. He would not be forced to play parent to his younger brothers. He would- he would grow up happy if Yudhishthir did everything right.
“Chew with your mouth closed, and speak when you’re done,” was what he finally settled on. “And, I have some work after dinner, but I will come by to tuck you in and tell you a bedtime story, okay? Listen to whatever the nanny tells you until I come,”
Yudhishthir moved through the paperwork that had been interrupted in the morning. He read and sorted the piles of paper by torchlight, using all of the speed reading tricks taught to him by his elders so he could get back to his son as soon as possible. God, he wanted to track down the idiot who had submitted a memo in absolutely unreadable chicken-scratch and- and politely ask him if he could even read his own handwriting.
The king scrubbed his face and finally got up from the table. Picking up a torch, he made his way to Prativindhya's bedroom. His son, upon hearing him, got up on his elbows and flashed him a sunny smile. Yudhishthir took his usual seat in the window and put the torch in its holster.
“Now, would you like me to tell you a sto-”
“Baba, baba, look!” Prativindhya pointed toward the ceiling. “Fireflies!! How’d they get inside? Aren’t they so nice?”
Yudhishthir looked up, but saw nothing on the ceiling.
“They’re gone now, but they were there I pwomise, I wasn’t lying!”
“I know, I know,” Yudhishthir tried to placate his son.
“Look, they're back!” Vindhya exclaimed again.
This time Yudhishthir did not look up immediately but looked down, and immediately understood what his son meant by the ‘Fireflies’. He was wearing one of his favourite necklaces today. It was made of diamonds, cut diamonds embedded in a silver chain reflecting the torchlight all over the ceiling.
“They aren’t fireflies, they are just the reflections of my necklace.” Yudhishthir said.
“Well, they’re pretty,” Prativindhya said with all the finality he could muster from his five years on earth.
“That they are,” he agreed.
“How do they work?” Prativindhya asked.
Yudhishthir took off his necklace, and hung it up on a hook in such a way that the firelight fell directly on it. “Look at the diamonds, how they are jagged and have edges?”
Prativindhya nodded.
“When light falls on them, it jumps back, going all across the room, see?” Yudhishthir continued animatedly and made motions across the floor. “That’s called reflection,”
Prativindhya nodded emphatically.
“Watch the fireflies with me?” he asked a moment later.
“Of course,” Yudhishthir said, and sat down on the bed. Throwing off his blanket, Prativindhya jumped into his lap, snuggling close and looking up at the sky.
“Vindhya please, don’t throw off your blanket, it’s a cold night!”
“But I wanna sit with you!”
“You can sit with me and be warm, you know?” Yudhishthir asked with a raised eyebrow.
“No blanket!” Prativindhya said, and kicked the blanket further away. “Stay with me?”
“Of course I’ll stay with you,” Yudhishthir said. ‘I won’t do what my own father did, leaving us high and dry because of one moment of desire. I won’t,’ he thought to himself. ‘You’ll grow up, my son, and you won’t be like me, and it will be better for everyone,’
“Baba, when I grow up,” Prativindhya started sleepily.
“Hmm?”
“I want to be just like you,” he yawned.
Yudhishthir chuckled and set his son down. He tucked him in again and pushed his hair away from his face, resisting the urge to kiss him on the forehead for fear of waking him up.