Ram
Ram
Ram can’t understand how Bheem can be completely calm. He’s done nothing but sit leaning against the wall munching on a mango.
Ram on the other hand is pacing back and forth.
“Ramu, calm down.”
He whirls around on him. “How exactly can I be calm when my wife is giving birth?!”
Bheem chuckles and wipes a drop of mango juice from his beard. “Because you’re not in there actually giving birth.”
The wolf finally sits down next to him. “I’m sorry, Bheemu. I’m just—-I’m nervous.”
Finishing the mango, the tiger puts his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Every father is nervous about the birth of his child.”
“Yes, I know, but—,” Ram rubs his hands over his face. “I don’t…I don’t want to turn out like my father. Does that makes sense?”
Thinking for a moment, the other man nods, inwardly wishing he could go back in time and beat up Ram's father. “Yes, it does. He had no right to give you such a heavy responsibility.”
Ram frowns. “But it—“
“No, you listen to me, Ramu. When our children are grown, we want them to be in a world where it is a free and independent India.” Taking his brother’s hand in his much bigger warm one, he says “When my children are born—whenever that will be—I will never, never give my responsibilities to them. They’re not supposed to carry our weight into their future. Do you understand?”
“I…I feel that I do.”
“Good! And you’re going to be an excellent father, anna. I can feel it.”
Later, as Ram holds his newborn son in his arms he thinks to himself ‘Yes. Thank you Vishnu for sending me a brother like Bheem.’