What Love is?
The story
begins like this...
'How long will
you be poring over that newspaper? Will you come here right away and make your
darling daughter eat her food?'
I tossed the
paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter Sindu looked frightened.
Tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its
brim with Curd Rice.
Sindu is a
nice child, quite intelligent for her age. She has just turned eight. She
particularly detested Curd Rice. My mother and my wife are orthodox, and
believe firmly in the 'cooling effects' of Curd Rice!
I cleared my
throat, and picked up the bowl. "Sindu, darling, why don't you take a few
mouthful of this Curd Rice? Just for Dad's sake, dear. And, if you don't, your
Mom will shout at me.'
I could sense
my wife's scowl behind my back. Sindu softened a bit, and wiped her tears with
the back of her hands. 'OK, Dad. I will eat - not just a few mouthfuls, but the
whole lot of this. But, you should...' Sindu hesitated. 'Dad, if I eat this
entire Curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?'
'Oh sure,
darling'.
'Promise?'
'Promise'. I
covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine, and clinched the
deal.
'Ask Mom also
to give a similar promise', my daughter insisted. My wife slapped her hand on
sindu's, muttering 'Promise', without any emotion.
Now I became a
bit anxious. 'Sindumma, you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such
expensive items. Dad does not have that kind of money right now. OK?'
'No, Dad. I do
not want anything expensive'. Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the
whole quantity. I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my
child eat something that she detested.
After the
ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation. All
our attention was on her. 'Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this
Sunday!' was her demand!
'Atrocious!'
shouted my wife, 'a girl child having her head shaved off? Impossible!’
'Never in our
family!' my mother rasped. 'She has been watching too much of television. Our
culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!'
'Sindumma, why
don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven
head.'
'No, Dad. I do
not want anything else', Sindu said with finality.
'Please,
Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried to plead with
her.
'Dad, you saw
how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'. Sindu was in tears. 'And
you promised to grant me whatever I ask for. Now, you are going back on your
words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra, and its
moral that we should honor our promises no matter what?'
It was time
for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.'
'Are you out
your mind?' chorused my mother and wife.
'No. If we go
back on our promises, she will never learn to honor her own. Sindu, your wish
will be fulfilled.'
With her head
clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big & beautiful.
On Monday
morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu
walking towards her classroom. She turned around and waved. I waved back with a
smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait
for me!'
What struck me
was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the in-stuff', I thought.
'Sir, your
daughter Sinduja is great indeed!' Without introducing herself, a lady got out
of the car, and continued, 'That boy who is walking along with your daughter is
my son Harish. He is suffering from ... leukemia.'
She paused to
muffle her sobs. 'Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last
month. He lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He
refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of
the schoolmates. Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she will
take care of the teasing issue. But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her
lovely hair for the sake of my son! Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have
such a noble soul as your daughter.'
I stood
transfixed. And then, I wept. 'My little Angel, will you grant me a boon?
Should there be another birth for me, will you be my mother, and teach me what
Love is?'
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