The First Option (Part 9)
“Make some space on the bed,” he took control of the situation again and whispered to Piyali. Piyali nodded and hastily proceeded to pick up the books from the bed and put them on the table.
Mukundo took his daughter to the bed, and tucked her in. “Get some sleep. You are exhausted. You are working too hard,” he told her with a smile.
She clutched onto his hand. “Don’t leave, Baba,” she said, still choking on her words.
“I won’t move. Have I ever left your bedside when you are sick?”
She managed to smile and closed her eyes. Piyali brought a comfortable chair for him to sit on beside the bed. She also sat near him. They stayed silent for a while. He spoke after ensuring that Mou was asleep. “You were right. I shouldn’t have let my fear and insecurity show. I scared her.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” she pressed his hands and assured him.
“Aren’t you going to ask what I told her that…”
“Mukundo Babu,” she interrupted, “All those years back, when I had come to you with her as an unborn baby, desperately trying to make some sense of life, desperately trying to do the right thing, you hadn’t asked me any questions. You hadn’t questioned whether she should be allowed to live or not, something even my own father had questioned. As far as she is concerned, I don’t need to ask you anything.”
Mukundo looked at her silently for a few moments before replying, “You know how everyone finds our father-daughter relationship to be extraordinary. It has been possible because she trusts me. And she does it because you have taught her to. In action, in words. Mou, and my relationship with her, is the best gift you have given to me, Pihu Rani. Thank you.”
Humility! It hadn’t left him till date. “Give me all the credit you want,” she said with a slight chuckle, “It seems to make you happy. So, I will bear it. Let me get you some tea.”
“I meant it, Piyali.”
“I know,” she smiled at him before going out.
“Baba!” Mou woke up after about two hours, “You are still here?”
“I told you, I will be. Feeling better?”
She smiled and nodded looking embarrassed. “You almost scared me by understanding my feelings too well. I was confused, sad, even angry,” she said, and added hastily, “Not at you.”
“I know,” he held her hand, “Ask me Mou. Whatever questions you have.”
“Why do you love me so much?”
He gave her a knowing smile, “Why do parents love their kids? The most loved kids are those who remind their parents of the love they share. I love you so much, because I love your mother as much.”
“But most people plan for kids before…”
“I had no hopes of ever getting my love, let alone plan for kids, Mou. If you hadn’t happened, my life wouldn’t have happened. Try not to find it morbid. But while you mother suffered for a while, the outcome of that suffering was life-long happiness for me. I have tried to share that happiness with her, and with you.”
“I love you, Baba. I hope… I haven’t hurt you. Now, or earlier…”
“Mou. Shona, kids are supposed to create some troubles for their parents and take them for granted once in a while. You have done you share,” he chuckled; then turned serious, “That doesn’t hurt the parents. It makes them happy… That there is someone in the world who knows that they would do anything for her. I am very proud of you, my child. Come here. Give me a hug.”
“Baba,” Mou spoke hesitantly after breaking the hug, “There is something I wanted to ask. And if you think I should not know, you can say ‘no’. I won’t mind…”
“Yes. If I think you should not know, I will say ‘no’, young lady. So, cut the chase and just ask,” he grinned at his dramatic reply.
“I didn’t ask Mamma. I thought you should decide whether to answer it. What was his name? The man who abandoned me and her?”
Mukundo thought for a moment before replying, “You trust me Mou. And I trust you too. If anything else comes to your mind, you must tell me. His name was Ahwaan Sharma. Any other information we may have about him would be fourteen years old. But if you want to know…”
“No. That’s okay, Baba. Thank you.”
—
10 years later…
“Mou,” her boss Shivendra Vyas called her to his office and explained, “You remember I told you about this extensive story we are doing on changing parent-child relationship in our society.” Mou had recently joined this Mumbai-based magazine as a field reporter after finishing her studies in media and journalism. Her career choice had been inspired by her mother’s.
“Yeah.”
“And we have a very interesting interview lined up with twin brothers currently lodged in Arthur Road jail. Caught for weapon and drug trade. They come from a well-to-do family. Their father is a top executive in an FMCG company here. I think interesting family dynamics would come out form this interview. Want to accompany me?”
“Of course, Sir.” she replied because it was a good professional opportunity. But there was a bit of trepidation in her heart about the topic. Parent-child relationship. She had been lucky with her parents. But a little curiosity in her heart had refused to die for last ten years, since the day she had discovered that she had a biological father she had never seen or met. She would wonder what the life would have been like if she had grown up with him. Sometimes she imagined the worst, and sometimes she wistfully thought that it would have been even better than her current life. And starting with this interview, she was going to open another Pandora’s Box. What other people’s lives have been like with their parents? What were these brothers doing selling drugs, when their father could have provided everything for them? Just like her Baba.
The initial questions of the interview focused around what they had done, who were the people they were involved with, and how they ended up getting caught. It appeared from their answers that they were mere pawns in the large scheme of things. Why would they do something like that?
—
To be continued