Chapter 1: Three Is a Crowd
“Prerna Rishabh Bajaj” mused a young lady as she scribbled the name on a plain tissue paper. Tsk. She scratched it off before coming to “Prerna Bajaj”. But this wasn’t it. She signed as she struck the Bajaj off and replaced it with Sharma. “Prerna Sharma.” Quintessential, plain and boring old Prerna Sharmamuch to the annoyance of the scowling three-year old seated beside her. Two and half-year old, as the little one liked to correct her. Her two and half-year-old.
Sneha Kookie Rishabh Bajaj.
Kookie? Whoever named their kid Kookie? It had to be him. Him.
Prerna could be sure he named her darling baby Kookie to escape the hassle of hunting for a name.
That infuriating Rishabh Bajaj. Late as ever Rishabh Bajaj. Annoying Rishabh Bajaj. Her Rishabh Bajaj. HER?
“Prerna Sharma,” Prerna sighed at the lawyer who sighed in relief that Mrs. Bajaj had finally decided on her own name. The sigh of relief quickly turned into panic as the Mr. Sen, the lawyer felt himself scream internally when Mrs. Bajaj continued her statement, “And she will be Sneha Aamara Rishabh Bajaj.”
Little Kookie grinned as she shook her head enthusiastically in affirmation. Her Mumma knew best.
Mr. Sen could feel himself count minutes to his demise as the mother-daughter smiled at each other. Minutes till the mighty chewed him apart for having the audacity to touch his daughter's name. And minutes before a certain Mrs. Bajaj quipped about an impending custody battle. And just like that Bajaj would wonder how he lost his precious daughter to a silly kid who loved to moral police every f-cking moment of the day.
A silly kid who was now his wife, his daughter’s mother... uff, their daughter’s mother, sometimes his friend, mostly his enemy but mostly, always his family. And Bajaj knew he had to blame it on the certain winter night in Mumbai when he lost his parents and she was on the risk of losing hers. And they had what each other needed the most.
She, a family. And him, her.
And he here was four years later, in front of the very same girl who exchanged her life in change for her family’s. In the corridor of the Bajaj group’s premier hospital in Mumbai, two people met. One had lost his world. The other was on the verge of losing hers. It was as if fate had struck a deal with Bajaj as he struck a deal with hers. That night Prerna Sharma underwent a complicated procedure in return Bajaj group bore all expenses for her parents after their fateful accident. What was an embryo to her life-givers?
As life went on, Prerna eventually forgot about the consequence of the decision and eventually forgot about it. Bajaj welcomed a set of twins. His best friend and wife welcomed a son while Bajaj welcomed his darling baby girl Kookie. Though the two were not biologically related in any way, Bajaj swore he often found a vengeful side to his darling baby girl around that Mishra boy. The body-tacking, hair pulling, villainess side he often proudly claimed his baby pink wearing, Chanel obsessed, dainty, cute-fur-ball three-year-old never had. Two-and-half-year old. Bajaj swore.
The toddler in-love phase he didn’t mind because who else could control that Mishra boy in the future if not him. But also, the kindergarten phase that made Bajaj believe that his little wife never grew up. And so right he found himself to be as he walked towards his girls who were giggling at each other. Prerna as she held baby Kookie in her arms as they laughed over something. A laugh that turned into a glare as Kookie primly got off her mother’s embrace and walked towards the chair opposite Mr. Sen. (The universe could gush over how scary Mr. Bajaj went aww as he watched his girl spend a few moments struggling to climb the chair, and then wiggle to find the spot while she practised her glare.) This left for Bajaj to grab the seat beside his wife. And one look at her smug face and he could swear he was in some deep sh-t.
And that was a lot of swearing for one god-damn day. Mr. Sen prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him while Kookie darling prepared to judge her parents impending war. And in the Michelin star restaurant in the best 7-star the city had to offer, occupying the centermost table in a once busy restaurant sat Mr. and Mrs. Bajaj surrounded by ‘security staff’ and lawyers as silly Mr. Sen and Kookie judged the battle to come.
The battle to change Kookie’s name.
Hi.
P.S. How do you change font to Times New Roman?
Also, update as I go or schedule?
Edited by AraBearxo - 4 years ago
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