It’s Saturday morning and we are still in bed. Arihant is awake and threatens to ruin the tranquil that fills the room. He demands freedom from the crib. I give in and say adios to the ephemeral peace. Ari gives off a shirk as excitement ripples through his body in anticipation of a morning of fun as I pull him out of his nightly confines. He has begun to pick the three languages we speak at home besides his native gibberish. He refuses to shut up.
It’s a good thing I love music and presently wearing my noise-cancellation ear-buds to drown the cacophony. Ari makes a trampoline out of my stomach. His mother pulls herself out of bed, harbingering another day of privileged living.