Page 3 of No Boss
“I know what the doctor said.” Rajendra’s voice was firm. “I’m dying, not dead yet. I want to go to the beach.”
Abhinav was already standing. “I’ll get the car ready.”
“Just you and me, beta.”
Sarita and Naina, Abhinav’s sister, who’d materialized behind their mother, exchanged one of their looks. An entire conversation in two seconds.
Abhinav understood their concerns. The walk from bed to bathroom sometimes left his father needing to rest for ten minutes. But there was something in Rajendra’s eyes that was not a request.
“Fifteen minutes,” he stated as he moved through the house with purpose, already working through the logistics.
The Mercedes, not the sports cars. Cushions for the back seat. Water bottles. His father’s medications in case they were gone longer than planned. The route with the fewest speed bumps mapped automatically in his head. The wheelchair, positioned by the door before he’d consciously decided to bring it.
He checked his watch.
Twelve minutes.
His father would be ready.
???
The Arabian Gulf stretched before them, the afternoon sun turning the water molten gold.
Abhinav walked half a step behind his father, hands ready but not hovering, as they made their way to the bench overlooking the shore. The beach was quiet at this hour. A few joggers in the distance, the sound of waves, nothing else.
His father had insisted on walking from the car himself. Thirty meters took five minutes.
Rajendra lowered himself onto the bench with controlled effort. Breathed. Settled.
Abhinav arranged the cushion behind him and sat close, but not crowding.
The breeze came off the water. Cool and salt-sharp.
For a while, neither spoke.
“I always liked this spot,” his father said finally, eyes on the horizon. “The sea doesn’t care what you’ve built or what you’ve lost. It just keeps moving. There’s something honest about that.”
Abhinav nodded.
“Do you remember Jaipur?”
The question came out of nowhere.
“Some,” Abhinav nodded. “Pink stone. High ceilings. A courtyard where I played.”
“Anand Mahal.” His father said the name differently than he said anything else. Softer. “For hundreds of years those walls have been standing. Your grandfather made me promise, on his deathbed, to take care of it.”
Abhinav was quiet.
“I used to think he was being sentimental,” Rajendra continued. “An old man attached to old stones. I told myself I understood legacy better, that legacy was what you built forward, not what you inherited backward.” He paused. “I was wrong.”
In thirty-three years, Abhinav could count on one hand the number of times his father had said he was wrong.
“We left because I thought growth was what you achieved living outside a box. Dubai was booming. It seemed practical. Thesmart move.” He stopped, watching the water. “But the cost... I didn’t see it until too late. I raised you with no ground under your feet, beta. No place that’s simply yours. That was my mistake.”
“We did fine.”
“You did.” His father turned to look at him. “But fine isn’t the same as rooted.”
