Once upon a Dinner

Dinner is always fun- especially with the kids trying to outdo each other at chattering. I doubt they'd ever stop. Somehow, they seem to have an inexhaustible list of interesting things to say, although that might be a father's infirmity of being incapable of tiring of his children's voices. Or their hugs. What's the connection? They just go together love listening to them as I hug them. They're growing out of hugs, at least my daughter Ashira is. My only comfort is that she's going to grow back into them someday. My son Isaac on the other hand, is mercifully still a child, yearning to be called a big boy but not yet embarrassed by hugs. But I digress…1

As I listen to them jabber away, I wish I had more ears. Isaac animatedly retells a mischievous prank his gang played at school, while Ashira is upset that her grandfather stubbornly refuses to teach her to play the sitar. Dad argues back to add to the confusion, as do my wife and I. But I like that. I like the luxury of taking this merry imbroglio for granted, and the idea that everyone else is doing the same. I hope they are. Apparently I can't stop drifting off…2

"But I'm not too small to play it- I'm not!"3

"Oh yes you are. It might squash you."4

"Hey- Dad- you'd promised to teach me when I was two years younger than she is"5

"You actually did that?"6

"Yes, and we got away too! You should've seen it-"7

"I know I did, but I didn't land up doing it, did I? Not until five years…"8

"Hmm… I wish I had"9

"Mom, I didn't mean that-you know I didn't"10

"Really? Fine grandpa, do it a year before you did it for dad, OK?"11

"Of course you didn't"12

"We'll see"13

"I hate it when you say that- it means no"14

"That's not all we did-"15

"I did not say no"16

"He'd brought a lizard on his way- "17

See what I mean? That was only the tip of the iceberg. It's a good thing my wife made sure the kids learnt not to talk with food in their mouths. This way, we manage to decipher something of what they're saying. The chaos continues, and I decide not to neglect my food any longer. Everyone else follows suit. I wish they hadn't waited for me though- it kind of makes me feel like the head of the family. Thankfully, Dad rescues me from that forbidding responsibility most of the time. Otherwise my wife does the job. I'm still a baby that way.18

In the middle of all this, my son grimaces at something in his plate. Carefully, he pulls out a particularly hot looking spice and deposits it in the plate next to his. I'm about to give him a light knock on his head with a telling off, when I realise that the plate was his mother's. I'm afraid my son has always been a little tactless. He wasn't taking advantage of her, I know that… but it's time he realised he needs to be responsible for what he does. It's not that I'm worried about my wife- she's more than capable of pulling out spices herself- It's just that my son needs to know that he shouldn't make himself seem insensitive if he doesn't mean it. Recovering from a temporary numbness, I pick up that very spice from her plate, watching my son's eyes follow my hand and bit into it. Slowly I chew the entire thing, not once letting him take his eyes off my glare. Understandably, it unsettles him. Hopefully, this is the first time he's seen me glare at him- I don't think I could bear to wear this expression for long. My wife interrupts.19

"Roni?" The silence is deafening.20

"Yes dear?"21

"Why do you do that?"22

"What do you mean?"23

"I wanted to have that spice."24

"I thought you didn't like spices?"25

"Isaac obviously thought I'd like that one."26

I love her. Anyone who knows me will agree that 'love' is highly understated. The only thing on my mind right now is- her... Her beauty, her teasingly innocent smile, the way she slows down time when she's on my mind… She has effectively countered my glare and given Isaac the benefit of doubt in one go. It's no wonder everyone loves her. Well- I might as well go by her lines and give my son that benefit.27

"Well… can you trust me to have a better idea as to what you like? I guess you've never told him what exactly you like. You ought to, one of these days…" I turn to him "For now, Isaac, your Mom doesn't like spices much." I smile at him, but apparently, he hasn't forgotten my glare. He gets up, and walks off to his room.28

"Can you carry on?" I ask the others.29

"Go on dear"30

I find him at the edge of his bed, a look of introspective disgust on his face. I seat myself on the floor beside him and try to get him to look at me. He doesn't. No harm in asking, I decide.31

"Isaac, look at me please?"32

It works. Only, I get a look that says quite plainly, "Why do you even want me to?"33

"Can I hug you?" I ask. It startles him. But he compliantly moves towards me, getting off the bed and onto my lap, into my hug. I hold him tight, as every part of me wants to give him all the happiness I feel at that instant…34

"Dad, I'm sorry-"35

"What did you do to be sorry for?"36

"You know what I did"37

"But you didn't do it for any reason, right?" He shakes his head.38

"Then why are you feeling sorry?"39

"I shouldn't have done it- I didn't mean mom to have it-"40

"Yes, I know… next time, make sure you mean what you do, ok?"41

He nods. I kiss his hair and try to get up- he doesn't let me.42

"Dad?"43

"Yes?"44

"What does mom like?"45

"Well… carrots, raisins, alm-"46

"No- not food – I mean -"47

"Well- you; Actually no, she doesn't like you, she loves you; so do I, as a matter of fact-"48

"No Dad- I mean what can I do that she'd like?"49

"Well… why don't you – learn Braille?"50

Something that had been on my mind for sometime now…51

"Learn Braille?" He seems startled by the idea.52

"Yes… I'm sure she'd love to read anything you write"53

"Can you teach me?"54

"Definitely. But for now- our food must be getting cold, so we'd better get back to it. Come"55