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He got to ride with his girls. That could in itself be the ultimate gift of his day.

The music — a mix of Ava’s newest Punjabi pops (child-friendly ones) and his daughter’s demands that he didn’t understand at first but then realised belonged to some children’s YouTuber vlog album.

The dancing — Brahmi’s in the backseat. The views — the gorgeous ravines and rolling vineyards in bloom, windmills and houses that Brahmi pointed and kept making stories about, asking him random ‘what ifs.’ The quiet trust as she had held his hand the moment he had parked his car and entered their gate, ready to pull him into her car for their ‘Paris trip.’

Those two hours were the most cherished and he thought the day couldn’t get any better than that. But then Ava parked in Marais and as if it was their monthly drill, Brahmi hopped to a cute cafe done up in all pinks. She had her order ready — a pink white-chocolate eclair and pommes frites.

“You’ll eat sweet and salty together?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“It’s the bestest combination. Try,” she held out a french fry to him and he bit into it, then eyed the eclair she held up.

“Small bite,” she warned.

Ava’s amused huff made him chuckle too as he opened his mouth wide, making his daughter’s eyes go wide, then soft and happy the moment he nibbled a tiny bite from the far corner.

“Mmm,” he nodded. “It is a good combination.”

“Mama says it’s weird.”

“Mama said that to me when I said jalebi tastes the best with fafda,” he blurted.

“What is fafda?”

Samarth glanced apologetically at Ava. She didn’t look offended.

“Oh, umm, fafda is like… sev. But huge. Like a long strip of paper. Have you tried sev?”

“Every morning for breakfast,” Brahmi pulled a face. “With poha.”

Ava swallowed her coffee — “Hey, it’s not every morning for breakfast.”

“We see the exaggeration did not skip a generation,” Samarth tickled her nose. She giggled, teeth covered in chocolate.

“So then, where’s our next stop?” He rubbed his hands together. “I was told there’s shopping planned.”

“We are going to shop for my new school big girl clothes and then to see… just see ,” Brahmi widened her eyes at her mother, “a new helmet. And then picnic by the Seine!”

His eyes softened — “Picnic by the Seine? That’s my favourite thing too. But there’s one more place I would like to propose if you ladies allow me.”

“Is it Disneyland?”

“Nice try,” Ava’s brows rose. “You’ve already visited twice this year.”

“Yes,” Brahmi bobbed her head solemnly. “Once my Mama took us when Kresha Maasi was visiting and once I went for my friend Pierre’s birthday party.”

“Disneyland can also be on our agenda,” Samarth manoeuvred tactfully. “But not today. It’s a weekend or at least a full-day trip. I had something else in mind.”

“Mmm, like?” Brahmi sat back, her head not even reaching over the table but going back to rest on her chair, her arms crossing across her chest. Like a queen.

“Eiffel Tower.”

“I’ve been there.”

“I haven’t.”

“You haven’t?!” Her eyes widened. Samarth glanced at Ava. She had once demanded he take her there. That was one of the last few happy days between them.

“We have to take him, Mama!”

“We’ll see. Finish your eclair and then we’ll move.”

————————————————————

He had shopped with Ava many times. She was a princess, a very girly princess when she wasn’t smashing balls on the cricket field.

She was a fuchsia-pink fanatic and all flowers and Van Clef & Arpels.

Delicate in the wrists but ready to flick a shot that channeled right from her toned biceps.

Their daughter was no different. If she wore her riding boots and helmet and galloped her pony then she also chased fat black bees in her garden and lit up just as excitedly at the sight of anything pretty and delicate.

Be it the red woollen trench coat like ‘Red Riding Hood’ or the pearl-studded black flat cap that she ‘had to have’ because it was so cute .

“You know my Kresha Maasi went to Le Bal des Débutantes?” She informed him dreamily. “She and my Nanaji also danced in Father-Daughter ball!”

“Really? That must have been… fun.”

“She wore a dress made of white feathers. It was so pretty! I saw the photo, didn’t I, Mama?”

“Yes, baby.”

“But Mama says I can’t go to that ball when I grow up.”

“Why?”

“It’s for princesses. I am a smart equetrian.”

“Smart equestrians can’t be princesses?” He cocked his head. Ava gave him a look. One that said — No, she is not a princess and do not go there. So he shut up and showed her a flat cap in pink. Their shopping went wild after that.

There was war over an all-white coat with shiny buttons that the mother thought was impractical because ‘you run in the mud even when you have no outdoor class’ and the daughter wanted because ‘you never buy me anything in white.’

It was quite an entertaining sight until Samarth realised that a pair of round eyes was staring up at him as if he would referee the match.

“Oh,” his dreamland bubble burst. He glanced between Ava and Brahmi — “Umm, I think Mama is right…”

Brahmi’s lips popped out in a pout.

“You are right too…”

Ava cleared her throat. When he glanced at her she was glaring at him.

“Oh no, of course you are right… whites get dirty and…”

“Sam!”

He glanced down and one eyebrow was cocked up. He recoiled. Was that him glaring back at himself? He caught his breath. Sometimes Brahmi just took it away.

“Alright,” he snapped out of the contest. “Here’s what I propose — Ava, what if this white coat is only for special occasions?

Occasions that you get to veto on? It stays in a special place of the closet and comes out only when you say so.

That way,” he turned his face to his daughter, feeling very much like the Rawal on the throne solving a dispute of goats.

“Brahmi gets to have something in white too. And learn to take care of it. Hmm?”

“Fiiine.”

Again she took his breath away. A sassy Ava was shrugging right back at him.

“Ava?” He quickly looked away. She was frustrated and looked done with him. Or was she… amused?

“The payment for this white coat will be made from your savings account,” Ava stared down her nose at Brahmi. Immediately his daughter jumped to read the price tag.

“Savings account?”

“Unlike piggy banks, she has a savings account with me. She gets interest for every three months and if she does not spend it for six months, the interest rate multiplies. Every year the amount is either renewed, used to buy a massive gift for herself or set into a fixed deposit in a real bank.”

“Wow,” he mouthed. “Does she understand interest?”

“It’s been two years since we started. She can’t calculate but she understands that money is added onto the lump sum she saves.”

Samarth gaped at Ava in awe.

“No, it’s ok,” Brahmi muttered, letting go of the price tag. Her pretty little face was drawn out.

“Let me buy it for her,” Samarth murmured in her ear. She was about to shake her head — “I’ll deal with it right. Let me.”

Ava stared at him.

Please, he mouthed.

“Fine.”

“Oh, what if I loan you some money?” He asked Brahmi.

“What is loan?”

“Loan is like borrowing. You borrow your friend’s crayons or pencil? That way you can borrow money too. But you have to return it when you have it.”

“I have it but I cannot touch it until December or it will not become more…” she explained the concept to him patiently, arms wide.

“Hmm,” he held his hand out. “In that case, you can return the money to me in December.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Really.”

Her palm clapped his and he shook it.

“Talk to her about your interest rate,” Ava cued.

“No interest for her,” he continued to smile at her already leaving his hand and lunging for the coat. When he turned back, Ava’s mouth had dropped open. And was that a burst of amused envy he saw in her eyes?

————————————————————

After shopping for hours, and wandering around the Eiffel Tower like he was a tourist and they were his hosts, as the sun was turning softer in the sky, tiny stomachs were beginning to grumble and legs were beginning to drag, Samarth offered to carry Brahmi.

She immediately jumped up on him and he laughed, hitching her up and on his chest. Her little legs wound around him and suddenly the energy was recharged.

Ava walked beside him — “We will grab dinner from a cafe by…”

“Actually,” he cleared his throat. “I took the liberty of ordering a basket for us.”

“When?”

“While you were busy debating on the helmet’s size.”

Her mouth compressed.

“You liked it last time,” he reminded her.

She sighed. That is when he noticed that she was tired of walking and shopping too.

He had been here this time to carry the bags and now carry Brahmi.

How many shopping trips had she spent exhausted carrying the bags and their tired daughter?

Arguing clothes and colours and teaching spending values and figuring out dinner and still giving Brahmi such a splendid time that picnic by the Seine was her ‘favouritest.’

“You drove, took care of everything all day. Let me at least take care of dinner, Ava,” he pleaded, conscious of Brahmi’s head by his other ear.

“Sure. What did you order?”

“Now that’s a surprise.”

“Poha and sev will be a surprise for me but a shock for somebody else.”

“There’s poha and sev?” Brahmi’s head popped up and gave him a betrayed look. He chuckled, jiggling her on his hip until giggles reverberated.

“I think you’ll like what I ordered.”

“Not if it’s poha and sev,” her chin rested on his shoulder, her hands around his neck. Samarth felt like his body was caving in for her. Or it had caved in already like it knew the puzzle piece was coming there to fit.

“Rawal.”

Samarth stopped short at the sound of that title. The chef he had ordered the food from was waiting by the quay, a wicker basket in his hand.

“Thank you, Parmeshwar. Badhu laayva chho?” [92]

“Tame je pan mangavelu e badhu chhe.” [93]