The Plan

The son went and sat near his father.

“It’s been a while, dad. How are things going?”

“It really has been a while, hasn’t it? I stopped following time since God knows when.”

“That’s quite unbecoming of you, dad. For what I know, you were someone who used to measure time and plan accordingly. Shall I say shrewd?”

“I prefer meticulous. And yes, I used to measure time – every ounce of it. Each of my actions were prudently strategic. I wanted the best for myself and my folks.”

“Are you telling me even I were a result of your deliberate planning? Interesting.”

“You? Of course. Especially you. There was a time when my whole life was centered on you. I have had immense plans for you, even before you were born. Do you think you just happened to be born in the month of May?”

“I am quite familiar with the nine months’ infancy phase, dad. I believe that though I came out only in May, I began to exist sometime in August, perhaps.”

“That’s a way to look at it, right! And do you think August was a random choice?”

“I had never given it a serious thought, dad. Wasn’t it?”

“Do you know when our schools admit new batches?”

“June I guess.”

“June, yeah. And to be admitted, a child has to be exactly five years old on the first of June. I had lost eleven months of my life as I was born in July. I did not want to waste such valuable time in your life, Aahan.”

“Oh my! That was unexpected, dad. I suppose there is some story behind my name as well.”

“I would have named you aaa if I had my way. But your mom opposed, and finally we settled for this. I suppose your name came first in all name lists.”

“Definitely. And it had its perils as well. I was the one who had to complete all my assignments and submit it first.”

“I am sorry I overlooked that, but you were not kept in waiting during interviews and stuff, right? See, there were perks too. That’s not all. Do you remember how we switched your school after the class ten exams despite the enormous fees in the new school?”

“Entrance coaching, I get it. But you-you never lived to see the outcome, dad. The car crash was never part of any plans, right? Had you dozed off during the drive, as the motor insurance guys suggested?”

“I do not remember, son. Anyway, does it matter anymore?”

“You became a car crash. I became a brain tumor. Tell me one thing, dad. Are you sad that your dear boy fell at a rather tender age of twenty-nine, or are you happy that we have bonded once again?”

“Emotions account for only in the world out there, my dear. Here we learn to accept the plan.”