Wednesday, 4 March 2015

My Daughter's Gift - #lookup

I remember it was late evening of a tiring Sunday. Next day, it would be even tiring. There are times in everyone’s life when you decide to give up. When, in times so hard, you feel that you do not have courage, strength to carry on its difficult path. Three loans currently with my income being 1/3rd of all the loans – It seemed that I was drowning, drowning deep down the currents of my failure.

My wife, she has always helped me, being on my side, in the tough times and most importantly – When I needed her. There is a saying, “When there is darkness, there is darkness all over.” Perhaps it was true – but if I could see the light, the only glint of it, it was because she always held my hand in terrible times. Maybe, all the courage, all the endurance that I have been putting forward till now, was just initiated through her support. If it was not for her, I would have given up a long time ago.

But things had started to wear off once again, no doubt in her support to me, it was intact. What started to wear off, what started to deplete, was my will to carry on my difficult tasks. The loans had been taken for our house, our car and then, for someone’s education – who was angelic to my life, my daughter – Kiara. Yes, if I woke up every morning, it was for her. If I worked hard, it was her.
It seemed like all my motivation came through her little hands, through her beautiful eyes, and through her words, uttering in a little sweet voice, “papa”. I remember the day she was born, thirtieth October two-thousand and nine. It was the happiest day of my life. I had always prayed to have a daughter, so I could fulfill her persuasive demands. So, that I can get a chance to be able to take care of a princess. I believe, every daughter is a princess to her dad. Mine, actually was.  I never let her demands go in-vain. It was, for this very reason when she pointed out to the school she liked, I never said no to that.

The evening had just started, I was looking forward for some peace as the hectic schedule would begin tomorrow. As I drank my weak tea, along with my stale chapatti, I heard my daughter laughing gleefully through the corridor and then arriving in the hall – where I was seated.

She stood there as if I had punished her, with her head bowed down and hands behind her back. I asked her, “What’s the matter Kiara?” She, in her present mum did not utter a word. I noticed she had made different patterns on her face, triangles encircling the eyes while her ears and hands were covered with different colors. I presumed that her mother must have given her scolding for indulging in such an activity.

I laughed slightly and then said, “So why do you do it Kiara? Go have a wash and then we’ll have the supper together. “. She was reluctant to move – so I asked her the reason.

In her hands she held, firmly like a parent holds their child in their arms, a card mentioning, “My Love – Dad”. It was father’s day today.  In those moments of tears, I had blinded all my negative hopes. I had risen up to the challenge once more. I had gathered all that optimism that I required, in order to begin again.

I hugged her, and as she wished, I dialed a number and said, “One Chinese noodles please”.


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