01 | SUNSHINE AND RAINCLOUDS

IF RAIN were the tears of the sky, then sunshine would be the smile.

Sunlight graced the windows and the walls and the trees that stood high, filtering through the green leaves that appeared a lighter color than they actually were. A lone bicycle passed through the pavement. The rider's face and clothes were blessed by the rays as he hurried toward where the sun was- standing high and orange.

People walked, some dressed in joggers and shirts while others wore suits and ties, both heading in the opposite direction from each other. The bicycle stopped in front of a building standing tall and old. The man threw the newspaper that he held in his hand at the doorstep and he left, riding his bike, without looking back.

From the newspaper fell a lone paper which stopped right in front of the door, not going in. The paper was folded in half, only to be opened by the passing wind. It read,

Scintilla

We serve| coffee| dessert| cakes etc.

It was a rather nice morning. The weather was warm with no sight of clouds up in the sky. Sunlight reached the inside of the apartment through the thick red curtains in the hall. If he could hunch over on the railing he would be able to see the grandpa next door doing his morning walk with the accountant lady down the floor right behind him. God knows how long it has been since he went for a jog.

Yuvaan never belonged to the kind who appreciated early mornings. No, he in fact detested them. So when the sunlight streamed inside the room through curtain creases and grazed his eyes in delight, it was given- his eyebrows met each other in the middle and his lips wilted down.

He was annoyed.

His left hand searched around for his phone which was supposed to be on his left, right on top of the nightstand. His fingers traced over the screen and picked it up, almost risking a fall. Instinctively he pressed the button at the side. The light from the phone nearly blinded his eyes and he had to blink several times to adjust to it.

Tuesday

June 13 | 08:30 am

. "Ah" He blinked. "Shit." He jumped up in panic.

Yuvaan was an hour late.

It wouldn't have been a problem if it was any other day especially since he would be the one to set his alarm for 8 in the morning when he should reach the office by 8:30. But it wasn't just any other day nor was he at his own apartment. His alarm was definitely set at 6 sharp and not 8.

The first thing he did when his feet touched the ice-cold marble was rushing straight to the kitchen. He grabbed the first utensil he saw, placed it over the sink, and turned the tap to fetch water. He in wild panic moved around swiftly and kicked his foot on the leg of the dining table. He yelped.

His eyes were barely open and that was showing.

"My-" he cut himself off with a shake of his head. No, he could not curse. Not when- He looked up at the clock hanging down by the wall next to the gas stove. The shorthand stayed at 8 while the longer hand, disobedient and loyal to none, touched the curve in 9.

It was in Yuvaan's plans, to recreate his homely meal in this apartment building in Sablo. His nostrils ached to smell that scent of red rice and moru (with some fish fry and payar thoran as side dishes- his brain added along) which he dearly missed as well. He did not have to worry about preparing moru, the sweet-sour golden liquid, in this situation since he had already prepared it beforehand, but the others? Well, the peas were still in the fridge and he had no clue what to do with them next. At a time like this, Yuvaan couldn't help but wonder how his mother could wake up at 8 and have the meal ready by 8:30. The next time he visited his home, he was going to ask her about time management and cooking, that is for sure.

"Are you okay dada?"

Yuvaan jumped on the spot. His right hand moved to clutch the middle of his chest right where his heart was. "Oh my." he breathed, "You scared me."

Slowly, Yuvaan twirled around on his feet while simultaneously tugging at the edge of his hot pink tank top. It rested coolly against his skin on that warm summer morning. His eyes searched for the source of the voice inside the kitchen. When they could not find it, they searched outside and relaxed. There it was. The source of the sound, standing in the middle of the opening on the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen, clutching a pillow taller than his size against his chest, with his tiny hand rubbing off sleep from his eyes.

"Liam."

Upon hearing his name the boy hummed, and Yuvaan watched with fond eyes as Liam clutched the pillow tighter in his hold, already knowing where the conversation was going. Yuvaan grinned, patiently awaiting the response. "You are up already." He pointed out.

The boy hummed again in response. Yuvaan had to refrain from approaching the boy and squishing his cheeks. It was already too late for both of them to waste any more time. "Since you are already awake, how about you go and brush your teeth a little fast today?" Liam whined at his words and the soft sound reverberated in the empty kitchen along with the sneering utensil on the stove. Yuvaan chuckled; His lips turned up into a sympathetic smile.

Oh, he could relate to the misery.

He took long strides to approach the boy. He crouched down to meet the child's eyes. Yuvaan affectionately patted his head and brushed away a loose strand of blonde hair that was sticking onto the boy's cheek to prevent him from biting it. "Did you sleep well?"

Liam shook his head. A no. Yuvaan cooed, slowly bringing the boy towards him, embracing him tightly. "I want to sleep more," said Liam in his sleepy voice. Yuvaan pleadingly stared up at the ceiling pondering how to deal with it. The fact that he has yet again failed to make the boy a simple Kerala-style meal for school was bad enough.

Liam was 5 years old when Yuvaan first mentioned his traditional food before him. It was a September evening when the sky was crying, and he was packing his bags to catch the first flight to his homeland to celebrate Onam. He hadn't talked much about the festival. He just said that it was 4 days long event. And that people made floral decorations for 10 days up till the main event. Ezra normally doesn't let Liam come to him whenever he is busy packing the bags as it was both distracting and tiring for Yuvaan, but somehow, they both ended up in his apartment that day with Ezra begging him to take care of Liam for it was a really busy day for him as well.

Yuvaan must admit, that while it was tiring to do both the packing and babysitting, he enjoyed that evening to the fullest. Liam stayed calm that day, instead of acting like a sugar-high child as he does usually. It was in the midst of it, moments before Ezra came to pick up his son where Yuvaan unknowingly made the mistake of bringing up Ona Sadhya before him. 'What is that?' he had asked him.

'Oh, it's a- you know, traditional feast meant for Onam. You can find the same thing in, weddings. I genuinely don't know what makes the two different. But trust me, it is really tasty.' he added after some thought. ''Tastier than Papa's pastries?'

'That's a tough question.'

'I want to have it too.' said Liam.

'Sure. I will make it for you.' promised Yuvaan on a whim, completely unaware of the mess he was getting himself into.

As it turned out, Yuvaan never made Sadhya for Liam (since he doesn't know how to), and Liam, the sweet but mischievous angel, after hours of Liam's begging, settled for something simple instead. And here he was, breaking the promise again.

His mind went back to the previous night where the boy was practically celebrating Yuvaan's declaration of making a mini-Kerala-style lunch for him. He should've listened to Ezra and supported his attempts to distract Liam instead of adding oil to the flame.

With a sigh, he ruffled the boy's hair making the boy giggle in response. "Liam sweetheart," he began, "promise you won't get mad at Dada."

The boy looked up, expectant to hear from Yuvaan. His eyes which were puffed up with sleep looked bright under the light making Yuvaan swallow up his words. But he needed to spill them out whether he wanted it or not.

"Dada?"

"I'm so, so sorry sweetheart."

Liam blinked.

_____________

The car behind him blared its horn continuously making his ears bleed. He clenched his eyes shut in an attempt to drive his mind to somewhere else. The traffic seemed to get longer with the passing seconds instead of the other way around. The police did everything they could to ease the traffic but very little were the results.

Yuvaan repeatedly tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He paused to wind down the car window and peered outside by putting his head out for a moment. He clicked his tongue. Going to his office sharp on time appeared like his New Year's resolutions. Lucky for Yuvaan, all it will take is a turn to drop Liam at his school.

Yuvaan glanced at the rearview mirror and adjusted it a little to get a view of the upset child sitting in the backseat. He smiled faintly.

"Are you going to not talk to me?"

Liam huffed and turned his head, pouting and blowing his cheeks. Yuvaan chuckled a little devastated.

The road was starting to clear up.

"Off we go then."

A few minutes later, after a lot of stops and drives, Yuvaan and Liam reached Liam's school safely. Yuvaan slowly unbuckled his seatbelt whereas Liam practically yanked it off him. "Careful." warned Yuvaan. Liam in return showed his tongue and rushed off from the car. Yuvaan followed, carrying the boy's bag.

Inside the school, students were running through the halls making it difficult for Yuvaan to catch up with Liam. One of them slammed into Yuvaan's front and he stumbled in his steps. "Sorry Uncle!" the kid said as he ran away.

Yuvaan stood there perplexed. "Uncle?" he pointed a shaky finger at himself, "Me?" He laughed in disbelief. Realizing where he was and what he was supposed to do, he hurried in his steps and walked toward Liam's classroom.

His teacher was already standing before the classroom by the time he reached there. She wore a simple shirt with a brown overcoat with holes in it and a matching pair of pants. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun and she wore black rounded spectacles that settled on the edge of her nose. She was younger than him or of the same age as him, he noted. Yuvaan realized that he hadn't seen her in the school before.

Yuvaan finally could see Liam clearly now that there was no random kid slamming into him and calling him uncle (he recalled bitterly). He sighed. Liam waved at the new face with a wide grin on his face and she waved back with an equally wide grin.

It appeared that Liam was already familiar with the new face. Perhaps Ezra was too. Did she join sometime around the previous week? He was so busy with his work then that he couldn't drop the boy at his school. It made sense.

"Hello." he greeted the teacher. "Liam!" he called for the boy and pointed at the bag. At the sight of his bag, Liam stood up from his seat and rushed to where Yuvaan was standing with a smile. He tried reaching up for the bag only for Yuvaan to raise it up. He followed his movements a few times until he had enough. "Dada!" Yuvaan lowered the bag immediately. Liam grabbed it and held it securely in his hands before running inside without looking back at Yuvaan.

Yuvaan scratched his head. "It seems that he is really mad at me this time," he commented.

The lady chuckled. "It appears so Mr. Johnson."

Yuvaan choked. "Excuse me?" he waved his hands. "I am not-"

"Mr. Pradeep it's been a while!" another familiar voice chimed in. It was one of the teachers Yuvaan was familiar with. "Mrs. Davis!"

"We almost got worried for you Mr. Pradeep. Where were you?!" she asked jokingly.

"It was a busy week at the office. So-"

"I see. Is little William not here yet?"

"He's inside. We just had a little Liam-sized fight."

Her eyes sharpened in concern. "Is everything alright?"

Yuvaan chuckled. "Everything is fine. He'll be over it soon."

Her gaze softened. "I see."

"I'll get going then. Have a good day Mrs. Davis." He paused to look back at the new face. "And you too miss."

With those words, Yuvaan was quick to leave the place with a smile and the memory of a new face to ponder over.