▪︎No matter how good the hero is, he is still a villain in someone's story▪︎
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A story of anti-heroes. Two people with a strong dislike for the world learn to thrive together in an arranged marriage.
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A brother with a s...
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Vivaan and I landed in Delhi an hour ago along with Lakshay and my father in law. My mother in law lives in Delhi and she is here too.
Amaira sits on the couch, just now back from the hospital, her parents on each side of her. Her brother holds his own son who is fast asleep. Dev is pretty quiet for a kid. The newborn girl on the other hand is a hurricane. My brother, who goes around saying he hates kid has kept the little girl in his arm all this while trying to calm her down.
I knew he was lying about hating kids.
Unlike him, I've never voiced out about my aversion to children. Everytime someone offers me to hold the newborn baby, I put my hands up in surrender and they laugh. They are just so small, fragile looking and they cry all the time. It's annoying.
My husband stands beside me, in a ridiculously similar situation. He patted the girls head with a finger when he first saw her, as if she will break if he does anything else. I don't blame him. She might break. She is so small and so.....pink.
Amaira tugs at my hand and I kneel down in front of her. Surprisingly, she has become my best friend. She smiles at me lightly. "Stop staring at my baby like she grosses you out." My eyes widen slightly.
"Its not your baby, it's just....." She smiles some more, patting my hand in understanding. "I thought of a name. Shaira. What do you think?"
"It's beautiful Amaira. She definitely looks like the both of you. The name suits her." She smiles at me before announcing the name to everyone. They all seem ecstatic. And just like she heard her own name, Shaira burst into a long wail that has Vidyut bhai giving her back to Amaira who tries her best to calm the girl down.
I watch horrified as the baby screams and cries like it's dying. God, I hate kids. An arm wraps around me and my face scrunches more as I keep staring at the baby.
"I take it you don't like kids, pineapples?"
"No. You?"
"Absolutely not." I sigh at his answer. A little bit relief.
"Kids are too much work." I say. And he nods. "That's true."
"They are also exhausting." I point out.
"Absolutely." His answers waver me and I drop the bomb.
"I think I might be pregnant."
He jerks slightly before looking at me and then down at my stomach like it will answer all his questions. "Stop looking at it." His eyes snap back to mine and he pulls me into a corner.
"Why do you think you're pregnant? Did you take a test?" I shake my head.
"No. But I haven't had my period in a while."
"Are your periods regular?"
"No." He stares at me like I am stupid and I wish to stomp on his shiny shoes and dig a hole through his feet.
