Birthday candles blazing, Pintu leaned over the cake with his ears pinned back, to prevent them from singeing. As he took a deep breath grandpa shouted out,
“How many is that now?!” Pintu held the captive air. From the opposite side of the room Grandma returned even louder,
“5”! Pintu still waiting, his little cheeks bulging. Grandpa responded,
“If he’s 5 then I’m forty!”
“Death plus forty!” Grandma shouted over the huddled crowd.
“You would know!” yelled back Grandpa.
Pintu still hovering over the flaming cake, only his eyes following the volleys. His cheeks turning a patient shade of blue.
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