November 1, 1996
Diary,
Praveena turned eight yesterday, and I am so proud of her. She’s grown into such a darling — my darling. I love her more than I can ever tell her in words. There’s just one thing that bugs me though: she watches too much of cartoons. I know, and it’s not like there’s a problem with that or anything, but isn’t it unhealthy to sit in front of the television for such long hours? I don’t want her to fall prey to obesity or, worse still, spectacles. It’s such a bad thing that you can’t see things without spectacles, it’s like being dependent on something. I know because that’s my life. I should tell her that; she should take care of herself a bit more.
Geetha tells me that I worry too much about Praveena. But how can I not worry? She’s my daughter. But Geetha’s right too, maybe I should allow Praveena to figure things out for herself.
You know Diary, Praveena and Geetha — they are so much like each other. Sometimes, her confidence and her conviction surprises me. She wants to be a superhero. Ha! Imagine that! It’s a childhood fantasy, I know. But she doesn’t, and what’s more, she says she’s figured it all out. She tells me, even though she has no superpowers like Superman or Spiderman, she could change the world by just doing the right thing. “Like Batman,” she says.
I was stupefied. She’s eight! And she speaks like she’s much older. I couldn’t believe it. Again, Geetha advised me to just listen and nod on. “She’s just a child, Kamal” she keeps telling me, and I’ve decided to listen to her.
After all, mother knows best. Right?
Goodnight.
November 3, 1996
Dear Diary,
I heard some distressing news last night. A kid, some nine or ten year old, got so immersed in Spiderman, and believing he could jump from one building to another, jumped from a building.
Goodness, I didn’t know how to react when I heard this. I was so worried as if the kid was my own; how his parents would have felt! They would have cursed themselves for allowing their kid anywhere near that franchise. They would have thought that it was no harm – who would? Just like I feel about Praveena and her obsession with Batman. Oh, what do I do now? I thought it was okay, but now after this news, I’m worried. Should I restrict Praveena?
I’m too confused.
Goodnight.
November 12, 1996
Dear Diary,
I am so relieved. I spoke to Praveena about the kid who jumped off the building, and I ended up wondering why I hadn’t spoken to her sooner.
I was wondering how to begin when she started the matter herself. It seems she had noticed my “bad mood”, as she called it.
There I was, staring at her Batman dolls while she watched TV. All of a sudden, she exclaimed, “Don’t worry Pa, I am not stupid enough to jump off a building.”
I was startled. How did she know what I had been thinking? She went on, “I know superheroes don’t exist in the real world. When I said I wanted to be a superhero, I meant, I want to help people. That’s all.”
You can imagine the rush of love that swept over me. I stood up and hugged her. I couldn’t tell describe to her the relief that ran through my veins. I slept well that night, and a few nights later. That’s why I couldn’t tell you about it earlier. *Yawn*
Goodnight.
October 31, 2001
Dear Diary,
It’s Praveena’s birthday! She’s now thirteen; a teenager. Wow, how soon time flies! I didn’t even realize the years passing. It seems only like yesterday that I had shaved my beard for the first time since college. And so soon, Praveena’s a teenager!
As always, Geetha and I baked a small coffee cake – her favourite. She didn’t want to invite any of her friends this time, so it was just the three of us.
Geetha tried calling her parents — just to tell them that Praveena was growing faster than we’d like — but they didn’t respond, as usual. And I stopped calling my folks two years ago — there’s just no use.
Anyway, Praveena got herself a nice dress for her birthday. You know the drill; she gets her own birthday present – happening for the third year this time. She’s such an independent kid, you know, that’s the way she does it. Sometimes it terrifies me, but — no questions asked, Geetha’s rule.
Besides the dress, she bought Nelson Mandela’s autobiography (I know! Only thirteen!) and a Batman comic. I don’t know what joy she gets from reading the comics, but she does it everyday. Anyway, I stopped worrying a long time ago. I’m just happy.
Goodnight.
November 25, 2001
Dear Diary,
Today, I went shopping with Praveena. That’s when I realized, she’s so unlike other kids her age. She seems to hate being around people. She doesn’t behave like others, and I’m starting to wonder if she needs help.
She’s so short tempered nowadays. She even shouted at Geetha yesterday. It’s surprising. She’s never behaved like this before. She locks herself in her room and either sleeps all day or busies herself with homework.
I know that she has mountains of homework — and I do plan to talk to her teacher about it — but even when she’s not doing homework, she’s scribbling something or the other in her diary. You know sometimes I wonder whether she got that from me and whether it’s a good thing at all. I mean, she never tells us what she feels — isn’t that a bad sign?
She seems such a mystery to me. I can’t understand what she’s thinking, and she isn’t helping me to help her either.
Geetha’s health, on the other hand, is is steadily deteriorating. On our last checkup, doctors narrowed her health to another eight to ten months. She’s active and on her feet, busy with the house work, but I can see the cancer getting to her. Her hair’s no more and her eyes look more tired than I have ever seen them. Each time I see her, I feel like weeping. She smiles at me in the same way she did every other time, but I can sense the weakly concealed pain.
I can’t tell her — or anyone, for that matter — but, it makes me so sad that we only had so few years together. It pains me so much to have to see her leave me and Praveena all alone. She has always been such a great support, and going into the future without her would be like stepping into the unknown oblivion. But I’ll have to do it. For Praveena.
That’s it for today.
Goodnight.
The Chaos Within 
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