Every little thing Athvaith did amazed Anvitha—he showed traits that no one else in their family had.
He always sat with one leg crossed over the other.
Whenever he wanted something, he would bite his lower lip with his upper teeth and roll his eyes while asking. His attitude often felt like a grown-up trying to intimidate others.
No one would believe he was just three and a half years old, considering how mature and clever he was.
As soon as he received the toy car he had asked for, Athvaith began rolling it on the seat and playing with it quietly, not disturbing Anvitha.
She sat admiring him for a long time.
But the thought that he didn't show any longing for her still pinched her deep inside.
Suddenly, the driver's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Ma'am, did you eat anything this morning? Do you want me to get something for the child? There's a good hotel nearby. If you haven't eaten, I'll just stop the car there," he offered.
That's when she realized how long it had been since they ate.
The last time was yesterday afternoon before boarding at Kumbakonam.
She had been feeding Athvaith the curd rice she'd brought along, little by little.
But she hadn't eaten anything herself—and now that she remembered, hunger finally hit her.
She thought, Perhaps old memories had made me forget my hunger until now.
She also realized that it had been a long time since the child had a proper meal.
So, she told the driver, "Yes, brother, please stop near that hotel. I'll feed something to the child."
"Alright, ma'am," the driver said and stopped at a decent restaurant.
She got down with the child and looked up at the sky. The rain had slightly stopped, but dark clouds still loomed, indicating more rain soon.
Turning to the driver, she said, "Why don't you come too, brother? Let's eat."
But he politely declined, "No, ma'am, that's okay. After dropping you off, I'm heading straight home. My wife would have cooked already… and if I don't go, she won't eat. You go ahead. I'll wait here."
No matter how much she insisted, the driver refused to come.
With no other option, she carried the child and went into the restaurant.
She ordered two idlis for the child and two dosas for herself.
While waiting for the food, her phone rang.
It was Lalitha—her sister's friend, and her only close friend now.
With excitement, she answered, "Hello, Lalitha! I've reached Chennai. I'm on the way to the address you gave me by call taxi. I'll let you know once I reach."
On the other end, Lalitha asked, "Hey, your interview is tomorrow, right? Are you ready with answers to all the questions they might ask?"
"I'm ready, Lalitha… no problem at all. Why are you trying to scare me with constant reminders about the interview? It's not like they're going to eat me alive," Anvitha joked.
"No, yaar… the hospital you're going to is one of the biggest in Chennai. I've heard a lot about that hospital and how they conduct interviews.
To select just one doctor, they ask tough questions and even conduct a written test! I'm honestly scared whether you'll pass all that."
Anvitha hesitated for a second and admitted, "Hmm… I did think of skipping it. But if I go and something unnecessary happens, I don't know how to handle it."
Lalitha pressed further, "What if you get selected? And what if someone there recognizes you? Then what will you do?"
She thought to herself, I only wish he would recognize me, but didn't say it aloud. Instead, she said, "Hey Lalitha… if I come there, I'll kill you. Watch out! Making sure no one recognizes me there is my responsibility. Leave that aside. Tell me—do I look like an uneducated girl to you?" she asked angrily.
Lalitha replied, "I know you're smart… and I also know you talk too much. Just don't go there and argue about rules. Quietly answer whatever questions they ask you."
"If it were your sister Aadhira, I wouldn't be scared at all," Lalitha continued. "But you… if they ask you something even slightly inappropriate, you'll give them a comeback on the same level. That's what scares me."
Hearing her sister Aadhira's name, Anvitha went silent for a moment, startled.
Sensing that, Lalitha quickly apologized, "Sorry… I didn't mean to bring up her name. Did that remind you of her? Please forgive me. Anyway, just get to the address I gave you as soon as you can.
"I have some housework here. I'll finish that and come see you and the child in the evening," she said and hung up the phone.
Although Lalitha was Aadhira's friend, she always treated Anvitha with genuine affection.
After finishing the call, Anvitha turned back to feed the child. But what she saw next left her stunned.
Athvaith had tried to eat on his own, insisting he could feed himself.
He had smashed the idli, chutney, and sambar all together and was trying to shove it into his mouth—only to have the entire thing fall onto his shirt.
Without caring about the mess, he was already reaching for another bite.
"Oh no! What are you doing?" she exclaimed, quickly grabbing the idli from his hand and placing it back on the plate. She stood him up and began cleaning his shirt.
"What's the rush, huh? Couldn't you wait for me?" she scolded gently as she wiped the sambar off his clothes.
With a pout, he replied loudly, "You were on the phone for so long, Mom! Do you even know how hungry I am? How long do you expect me to sit here starving while you just talk and talk? There's idli, chutney, and sambar right in front of me. Should I eat or not? You're not feeding me, and you won't let me eat myself either. And you're giving me a headache now… oh no, oh no!" he wailed dramatically.
Everyone at the nearby tables turned and stared at them.
Embarrassed, Anvitha's face turned red like vermillion. Gritting her teeth, she hissed, "Hey… why are you embarrassing me like this? Why are you yelling?"
He snapped back, "How much do you talk to your mother? Can't I talk to my mother like that?"
That question struck Anvitha hard.
Yes, he was absolutely right. Anvitha was someone who never stopped talking—to her mother, to her father, to everyone.
But Aadhira wasn't like that. She had always been the quiet one.
As that thought passed through her mind, she wiped the spilled sambar off the child's shirt and cleaned him up.