Reality

1991

Today was yet another hot day. Nonetheless, an eventful Friday it has been.

I was waiting outside the school gate, trying to spot my little daughter in the sea of excited kids. During the last 15 minutes of her final period, she would frequently look out of her classroom window to check if I am waiting outside to pick her up. Tears would well up in her eyes, if I fail to make my presence before the last bell rings.

Finally, I saw her waving out as she ran up to me. She was just as neat and fresh as she was when I dressed her up in the morning – a few fringes falling on her forehead and her ponytail dangling behind her back. A white handkerchief with light pink flowers, neatly folded into a quadrant, hung from the right side of her shirt. A white badge bearing her name, class and section was pinned up on her left. She walked with a lot more energy and enthusiasm than any other Friday usually instilled in her.

Handing over her lunch bag to me, she exclaimed, “Amma!!! Know what? Sharadha miss gave me one extra star for the chart we did yesterday.”

“Wow! That’s good!” I said, holding her tiny palm with my free hand and making my way out through the swarm of parents, grandparents, maids, autowallas and school kids.

“So, are we going to the beach today evening?” She asked, looking up at me and meddling with the bangle on my hand. The dark kajal in her eyes were just beginning to show up beneath her lower eyelids. I simply nodded, trying to draw my attention to the busy road and carefully get across.

She completed her weekend homework well ahead of time, in anxious anticipation of going to the beach, only to be spoilt by Rajeev’s late arrival from office. Time was a quarter past seven. My father-in-law insists that we do not go out to return late in the night. The beach plan had to be dropped.

“We can be there for just half an hour and get back. We shall go. Pleasssseee!” She pleaded. Her tone and request was too sweet to be ignored or rejected.

“We are not going today Roshni. Its late already and the beach gates close at 7pm.” I lied, with no other choice. I knew it was a funny thing to say. Rajeev was laughing behind my back.

Roshni’s face instantly withered. She has been sitting with the new copy of ‘Gokulam’ that Rajeev got for her on his way back. She’ll be fine when I tell her what I’ve made for dinner today.

2007

While having my late night shower after our return from the beach party, I remembered a strange incident that happened when I was in nursery. I wanted to talk to my mom and find out if she remembered it as well.

As she picked up my call, she started off with her usual, “Where are you?” question as against the general “How are you?” As I went on ranting about the day’s highlights, I told her about the beach party and bang came her autoreply, “So late!!”

This was my chance! “Apparently, beaches no longer close as early as 7pm like they used to 16 years ago.” I said sarcastically. Bang! I could imagine her hitting me on my head with her knuckle. We both burst out laughing.