Epilogue

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"Peace is the beauty of life. It is sunshine. It is the smile of a child, the love of a mother, the joy of a father, the togetherness of a family. It is the advancement of man, the victory of a just cause, the triumph of truth."

Surabhi Singh Chauhan's Perspective

(One and a half year)

Curious, I stare at the jewelry piece, lying before me. I drool as light falls on the pearl stud earring and it glazes. I wonder how yummy it would taste. Vigilant, looking here and there, I slowly move my fingers to grab it and as I am about to put it in my mouth, she came.
Arghhh!!! Bane of my happiness.
"Surabhi. No!" She shrieks, catching me so off guard that I immediately squeal, throwing the earring away and grapple to the exit.
Mad woman!
"Surabhi, stop baby." She calls me from behind, but I wouldn't stop.
No woman, I know you. You would grab me for unnecessary kiss. I need to get out of here.
"Surabhi. Come to mamma." She cajoles and I stop at the door, watching her making funny faces.
What's wrong with adults? Why they have to behave as joker before kids?
"Tutu. Baadddd Tutu." I yell, and her face immediately falls. I smirk, serves you good, she is always on my back. I love daddy more than her because she would not let me enjoy my freedom.
"Surabhi. Don't call me Tutu. Call me mom, or ma." She coos, coming near me. Before she could catch me, I run again, involuntarily, stumbling into someone.
I look up and my face lit up, "Dada! Dada!" I take support of his legs and stand up, swinging my hands up for him to pick me.
"My princess." Daddy kisses my cheek, picking me up and bounces in the air, making me giggle but Tutu intervenes, "Abhimanyu. Don't do that, I've just fed her."
See, that's what I was talking. She would poke her nose everywhere. Daddy loves her, that's why I've to adjust with her but since he is wrapped around my finger, he ignores her, bouncing me again.
"Nothing would happen. I know my princess....shit!" Daddy cringes when I untimely emptied my milk on his suit and Tutu giggles, "I told you, she's just drank milk."
Oops!
"What did you do princess?" Dad pouts and I give him my signature, two-bunny-teeth-grin-with-curly-hair-over-my-eyes. He kisses my cheek, passing me to Tutu.
No, dad!
I squirm but Tutu wouldn't leave me, she presses completely unnecessary kiss on my cheek before turning to daddy, "Go and change, I will clean it."
Daddy kisses her forehead and trolls to room. Ew!! He kisses her a lot. Whenever he thinks that I am busy playing or sleeping, they both kiss a lot.
No sense of privacy.

"Now say, mamma." She propels and I wriggle, squealing. No, I won't! Let me make you suffer for a while.
She would ask a lot for it. She whines to dad and complains that bhai started calling her mamma, way before when he was a baby and it was his first word.
My first word was dada, and then Nana, then Dada and Bhai but I clearly refused to call her mamma except Tutu until I got to know about her secret name.
She would glare daddy if he calls her Tutu. That reminds me, daddy calls her weird names, when I was grasping word, I learnt one of them and Tutu really cried when I called her 'Jaan' before everyone.
She was so happy.
"Mom! Where is my book?" There he comes, my favorite person, my brother and checks the sofa.
"I don't know Ayansh. Where did you last see it?" Tutu asks, dropping me on the sofa, beside bhai. She made him crawl on her lap and kisses her hair, "Don't be sad, Darling. Tell me, what happened?"
See, she again kissed him.
"Tomorrow is my test mom and I can't find my book." He whimpers, looping his hands around Tutu. He loves Tutu more than me; I think this is why daddy calls him 'mamma ki pooch'.
Wait, book. Did he say book! This perks up my ear, is he talking about the blue dolphin covered book I borrowed from him today without asking and colored on it?
Should I say it to me?
"Don't worry. I'll teach you. You want cookies?" Tutu fondles him and he nods. Getting up, Tutu again drops peck on my cheek and I squeal in protest but she trudges to the kitchen to get some cookies.
I look at Bhai and contemplate whether to tell him or not. He jumps closer and hoists me up on his lap, "Oii...little sister. What did you eat today, did you miss bhai. I will play with you after doing my homework."
My brother is very sincere; he studies and cleans his room himself. One day when I was playing with him, he offered me colors and went to check why tutu was calling him. Those tasty crayons were so yummy. I ate some and took a box filled with color.
Daddy paints his shoes with it. I splash that on bed and on Bhai's books and I colored myself too. When he came back, he was so happy that he was crying, calling for tutu.
She came running and hugged him, I clapped for them. Daddy took so many pictures of mine and one of them adores our drawing room.
Daddy says, "I would be a prodigy."
Anyways, Bhai wouldn't let me touch his book after that, so I borrowed it in the morning when he was in school. I look at him, contemplative.
Um...bro. I just took your book and I think that's the only book you're looking for.
I say this with the help of some adjectives, touching his face but I guess, he couldn't understand the message because instead of getting horrified, he giggles, kissing my palm.

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