Aditi was already lying on their bed when Srikant came in from turning off the lights. She was worn out after the week’s celebration, but she was also taking a moment to miss her parents on this first Diwali without them. And this made Aditi miss her sister, too, for Nayana would feel especially alone on this day as well, far from home. They’d always felt a little alone without each other near. Srikant joined her now on the bed, and she nestled into him, wondering if it was at all similar for him, without his brother. It was worse, of course.
“Are you scared even a little?” she asked.
“Now, why would I be scared, Adi?”
“About the baby. Do you no worry that he will only have us? My sister is far away and may never come back. The others all with God.”
“I don’t know; there may be more,” he said and, touching her belly, flashed a wry smile she could still see in the dark.
“You know what I mean,”she said.
“You don’t think we’re enough?” She rocked her head, honestly unsure. “You know what I think?” he said. “I think we collect love and can never reach our fill, never have too much. He will have all the love I have ever known, and all the love you have ever known. And even if the two of us had only known our love for each other, I think it would still be enough.”
“It’s a very romantic notion,” she said.
“You disagree?” She shook her head now. She’d like to believe that, too. “Well, then, that makes for a good pair.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we choose a strong name, for extra measure? How about Abhimanyu? A fierce and skilled warrior.” She recoiled to see if he was serious. “I’m sorry. You’re right. He dies. Not a good name.”
He resumed stroking her hair, and they were silent for a moment. She thought she had it, a name, but wasn’t sure she wanted to say. She believed she was having a boy but didn’t want to jinx it or make a girl feel unwelcome if she was mistaken.
“Dabeet?” Srikant spouted suddenly, giving Aditi a jolt.
“Where are you getting these ideas from? Dabeet? Nobody is named Dabeet.” She clicked her tongue, then paused, hesitant to discuss the baby’s gender. “Besides, we don’t even know we’re having a boy.”
“And yet you said ‘he.’” She rocked her head again.
“I have a feeling.”
“Ah, one of your feelings. It must be so, then.”
She raised her hand to shush him, then poked his arm in jest. He took her hand in his and kissed the fading mehndi.
“Shouldn’t we wait?” she said. “Or ask the pundit for guidance?”
“Paarthiv?” he blurted, then pretended to cower from her.
“You’re not being serious.” Now she gave his arm a little smack. “Besides, it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.” She shook her head, settling again beside him. “No.”
She lay still for a moment, then turned on her back to relieve the pressure at her side. She said it as a whisper first, and he had to ask her to repeat herself. He leaned in close.
“Birendra,” she said again.
“Birendra,” he repeated with a contemplative air. “Like the Nepali king. Oh, that’s a very good name.” He slid down and placed his face close to Aditi’s belly, making her laugh. She rested a hand on his head, enjoying the feel of his thick hair, the vibration of his voice. “Hello, Birendra. Can you hear me? Do you like your new name? We’re waiting for you, Birendra. A very happy Diwali from your amma and acchan, dear one.”
