Tangled Worries
Aadi glanced at Shan and their eyes met. The two had been friends long enough to understand each other; many words needn't be said. "I'll be in the house," Shan said, "Shall I make some tea?" Aadi smiled and replied, "Thanks." Without further ado, he headed towards his mother, towards the wall that faced the forest. Zehra didn't turn around as he approached, but Aadi knew that his mother had long since noticed him. She had sharp senses. Without a greeting, Aadi walked right up to his mother and hugged her. The two stood there in silence for a bit.
"Your father hasn't returned yet," his mother said. "Mm-hmm," Aadi replied wordlessly; none were needed. There was nothing he could say that would make her feel better. Zehra didn't like false assurances. She turned around and cupped her son's face in her hands. "You are handsome, just like your father," she said. Aadi smiled sheepishly and said, "Shan's making tea inside." His mother's eyes grew wide, "Shan is here?" and he nodded in reply. Turning him around, Zehra pushed Aadi forward towards the house. "Come on! Let's not keep him waiting," she said, following on his heels.
They entered their home and found Shan in the kitchen. He had just finished brewing a pot of tea and Aadi helped him prepare three cups. Shan greeted Zehra and said, "I think appa will be back by sundown." Although he hadn't mentioned Viraat, Zehra acknowledged his indirect attempt to make her feel better, "Quite right! Let's have some of this delicious tea you brewed." The three sat at the kitchen table and sipped their cups. Zehra asked Shan about his adventures with Aadi and he regaled her with several tales, embarrassing his friend immensely.
Thus did time pass in gentle mirth. Aadi had added biscuits to the menu and the three of them had something to snack on. As the sun went down however, the atmosphere in the house grew heavy. Aadi could sense the worry in his mother's eyes, although she hid it very well. His friend on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. Shan had glanced out the kitchen window several times over the past hour, searching for any sign of his father's return. As the minutes passed, Aadi could clearly see the anxiety written on his face. "They shouldn't be gone so long," Shan said finally. "Your father and my Vir are brave," Zehra assured him, "Be strong; be patient." Shan nodded reluctantly.
"I'll chop some wood," Aadi said, opening the front door, "to pass the time." His mother looked at him and simply said, "It's sunset." He replied, "There's still some light outside. I'll be fine. It's better than sitting on my hands." His mother didn't say anything else as he stepped out. She knew that he was worried; she was his mother after all! Zehra's eyes followed him out the door and then shifted to Shan, who had been gazing at Aadi the whole time. When the front door closed, Shan rose from his seat and made for it. He had hardly taken a few steps, when Zehra said, "Dara loves you too." Shan stopped in his tracks and stared at her.
The Kants and the Tells were close. They were family friends and helped each other out all the time. Zehra cared about Shan almost as much as she cared about her own flesh and blood. Dara Kant, Shan's mother, would have said the same to Aadi, had the shoe been on the other foot. They were all worried for their patriarchs' safety, but Zehra was worried even more for their sons. Kalis's wife probably had no idea about the day's happenings. After all, she had seen her husband off to the Tells' holdings just that morning. When Aadi and Shan had gone to the Kants' shop to deposit a trunk containing leather hides, they hadn't met her. Zehra worried on her behalf too.
"I know," Shan replied slowly and Zehra added, "Remember that, always." Shan nodded and said, "I will." With that, he walked out the door and she sighed. Aadi had already reached his twenties and Shan was closing in with every passing day. Both their sons were adults and neither Zehra nor Dara could control their every action, nor did they wish to. Every adult had to make their own decision and be responsible for it. Besides, they weren't weak by any stretch. Both their sons had grown to be strong, young men, with the vigour and enthusiasm for adventure that accompanied their age. "I can't help but worry," Zehra sighed, muttering under her breath. She was his mother after all!
As Shan stepped outside, he saw Aadi's darkening outline next to a wood chopping block. His friend raised an axe overhead and presently brought it down on a short log, which was split in two. The split pieces fell sideways and before they hit the ground, Aadi had already picked up another log. He repeated the process time and again, almost robotically. Shan noticed that his friend was oblivious to his surroundings, lost as he was in his thoughts. "He's as worried as I am," Shan told himself. He gazed at Aadi for a few minutes and then, turned towards the wall facing the forest. Somewhere out there, his father and Viraat were dealing with God-only-knew-what-kind-of danger!
Shan felt frustrated. He had wanted to accompany them, but Viraat had turned him down. His father hadn't said anything at the time, but Shan had noticed the look of pride on his face. He felt that his father had been glad that he had volunteered. "He wanted me to go along," he told himself, slowly stepping towards the wall. "I might be able to help them out," he thought aloud, his pace increasing with each step. Eventually, he reached the wall and scrambled over one of its low sections. As his feet touched the ground on the other side, Shan turned around briefly to look at his friend.
Aadi was still chopping logs. He hadn't spotted Shan climbing the wall. Gazing at his friend's silhouette, Shan said, "I'll find them, Aadi. I'll bring them home. Don't you worry." Having said that, Shan turned his steps resolutely towards the forest. Some time later, Aadi was still chopping away when he heard his mother call out, "Aadi, I've made dinner. Both of you come inside and let's eat." His mother's words broke his train of thought and the first thing that came to his mind was, "Both?" Puzzled, he looked around and could see no one. Then again, it was quite dark and the small lantern hanging on a post beside him didn't shed a lot of light on his surroundings.
Fixing the axe firmly in the chopping block, Aadi walked back into his house. He went straight to the kitchen and asked his mother, "Where's Shan?" Zehra looked at him for a few seconds and replied, "He went outside to join you." Startled, Aadi asked, "When?" "Just after you left," his mother replied, sensing the confusion in Aadi's voice. "I didn't see him," he said simply and Zehra remained silent for a few more seconds before saying, "I think he went to look for his father." Aadi stared at her, momentarily stunned. "How did I miss him?" he asked himself, but no answers were forthcoming.
Shan was his friend, his childhood friend at that! They were really close and for a moment, Aadi couldn't believe that Shan had left him behind to go after their parents. "Why did he do that?" he wondered aloud and he heard his mother answer, "He was really worried. I could see that clearly. I told him to be careful, but…" Her words trailed off and Aadi understood what had been left unsaid. They were young. Youth was given to spontaneity, bursts of emotion, and a spirit of adventure. Aadi was only a few years older than Shan and despite that, he had found it difficult to not volunteer to accompany their fathers first! Even though Viraat firmly turned them down, there was a part of him that ached to follow them into the forest.
It didn't matter now. Aadi took a moment to gather his wits and made a decision. He would go after Shan! What other choice did he possibly have? He was his friend. Their fathers had been gone all day and the night had already set in. They ought to have returned by now. Aadi couldn't simply sit at home, worried that Shan could be in danger too. "I'll look for him," he announced and reached for his slingshot, which had been hanging on a peg by the door. At that moment, Zehra grabbed his arm firmly and said, "Aadi, wait."