Tag: parenting

Telling Lies…

“My friends say fairies aren’t real, mama.”

— “Fairies do exist, dear. They spray their magic dust to make the flowers bloom.”

“These cookies are so tasty mama. Can I eat them all?”

— “Don’t, my boy. Leave some of the cookies for Santa. if you had been a good boy, Santa and his elves will leave you anything you asked for.”

“I’m scared, I don’t want to go to sleep.”

— “ Shh, it’s already past your bedtime. Wee Willie Winkie would be running through the town, checking if the kids are in their beds. Close your eyes now, and try to sleep.”

“Mama, what would I be when I grow up?”

— Disappointed.

The Father-Son Bond

Father bought me a shirt
Said it would suit me
Washed and ironed it for me
Made me wear it on my birthday
Asked me to pose for a photo
And then a shaky selfie
Chided me to smile wider
Held the phone a little steadier
Captured his cherished moment
Sent it to all his friends,
Declaring I made him proud.

Voiceless, I made him proud.

Lingering Clue

lingering clue

“It’s too cold out there, Mark. Go read a book. Or play with your sister. Why do always want to go out into the snow?”

Mark hung his head and retreated. His mother had caught him sneaking through the door again. It wasn’t fair. He wanted to ski, and it was perfect outdoors. Maybe he’d try again later.

Mark was a great brother. His sister loved spending time with him and sharing gossip. She even told him about her first crush.

His mother was proud of him too. He was the ideal son, a good brother, and a gentleman in the making. So unlike the man in her life who had left her to chase his passion — never to return. But Mark was different. He was always there to care for his family.

Until 92′.

“I’ve got a chance to participate in the Winter Olympics preliminary round,” he announced, his voice echoing through the room.

Catherine remembered. Her brother used to clean up his snow-smudged shoes every morning.

Chapter Forty Nine: A Father’s Confessions

Kamal parked in front of the small brick house. “Are you sure this is the place?” he asked Praveena who sat in the front seat next to him, examining a piece of paper. “Yes, Pa” she said looking at the half open gate. “This is it.”

They got down from the car and, despite the open gate, Kamal rang the doorbell. A thin woman clad in a sari with her hair held back in an unravelling bun, appeared at the gate. “Who is it?” she asked Kamal irritably. Praveena stepped forward. “Are you Mrs Henry, Helen’s mother?” she asked.

“Yes,” the woman answered, a little uncertain. “But who are you?” she sounded confused, and Praveena knew Helen’s name was the reason.

“I’m Praveena, Helen’s art teacher at school. And this is my father,” she announced. “Can we speak to you, if you don’t mind?” she asked politely.

“Oh, sure.” the woman replied courteously and opened the gate widely to allow them inside. “Please come in, Helen’s told me a lot about you.” her smile had become warmer.

Praveena and Kamal followed the lady inside the house. “Please sit,” Mrs Henry offered, clearing away the toys from the chairs. “Sorry about that,” she said breathlessly “They are my son’s.”

“Never mind,” Praveena waved her hand away.

“Shall I get you something to drink? Coffee – ”

“Nothing, please.” Praveena said shaking her head, “won’t you sit down? We need to talk to you, and your husband.” She looked around for the man of the house.

“He’s not home at the moment,” Mrs Henry said, “Is it about Helen? Has she done – ?” Praveena cut her off with a shake of her head. “This isn’t about Helen,” she said sighing. “It’s about your husband.”

Mrs Henry glared at Praveena as if she were mad. Praveena explained, in detail, what Helen had told her in school that day.

As she finished, she noticed Mrs Henry’s eyes soften. “He doesn’t do it on purpose,” she said dutifully defending her husband. “He can’t help it. He has tried to drop the habit, but he can’t.” she shook her head in worry. “Helen doesn’t understand how much it pains him. Once he gets drunk, he forgets his family.” Praveena let her finish, she saw traces of tears in Mrs Henry’s eyes.

“Well, in that case,” Praveena sighed. “Why don’t you get help? Talk to a therapist and get your husband involved in rehab or an alcoholics organization. There are people who support those who want to give up addiction.” As Praveena spoke, her father watched in silence, unable to believe what he saw.

Praveena continued and Mrs Henry listened intently, “Encourage him to follow the therapist’s medications. Keep telling him he can do it, and one day, he will. Trust me.” she nodded.

Mrs Henry responded with a grateful look. “Thank you so, much. I’ll talk to him.”

Praveena nodded smiling. “Tell him to give it a try. For his kids, at least.”

Praveena yawned as they walked into the house. She wanted to fall back on the couch and sleep, but there was dinner to take care of. “Let’s have toast,” her father said reading her.

After dinner, both of them slumped on the couch. Praveena waited for her father to switch on the TV, but he didn’t. When she was about to do it, he stopped her.

“Can I talk to you, Praveena?” he asked quietly.

“Sure, Pa.” she said turning to him. She had a feeling he was about to tell her to quit her job. She wasn’t in the mood to argue, but she knew she would.

“I’m proud of you, Praveena.” he said unexpectedly.

“Huh?” Praveena wasn’t sure she had heard correctly.

Kamal smiled apologetically. “I never realized,” he sighed “how much you’ve grown,” Praveena listened, not sure where this conversation was headed. “I’m sorry, Praveena.”

“No, Pa,” she shook her head. “Don’t be sorry, you haven’t done anything wrong!” she defended.

“No, Praveena.” he held her hand in both of his. “I shouldn’t have stopped you from doing what’s right. I’m really sorry,” he pleaded with tears peeping through his eyelids. He blinked them away. Praveena couldn’t make sense of it at all. What had gotten into her father?

“Listen Praveena,” he continued. “when you told me that you wanted to help drug addicts, I wasn’t sure if you were mature enough for that kind of thing. But today,” he shook his head, unable to speak for a while. “you handled it so well,” he gulped.

“Go ahead, Praveena,” he continued. “Don’t let me stop you. Do whatever feels right to you.” he had tears in his eyes as he finished saying what he had wanted to tell her. “I’ll be wth you always,” he added smiling encouragingly.

A sense of relief spread through Praveena’s veins. She had always wanted her father to believe in her. He now did. Time does work its magic.

Life for Praveena went along just fine. She postponed her plans for her self-help group. She liked what she did and wanted to spend more time teaching. Two years she worked alongside Ms Marrie and changing a lot of lives. Helen’s father recovered, and now every time she saw Helen, Praveena couldn’t help but feel proud of herself.

During the third year of her teaching life, Ms Marrie announced her retirement. She hadn’t thought of marriage, but had decided to live alone and conduct private classes to students who wished to learn from her. And there were a good number of students who were willing. A phenomenon that didn’t surprise Praveena at all.

Later that year, Praveena’s father passed away from cardiac arrest. The loss left Praveena shaken, and the customary pity from the relatives who had hated him did nothing more than to annoy her. Anil didn’t make it to the funeral but he had called to console Praveena as best as he could. Speaking with Anil made her feel much better. She held on to the comfort as she walked the treacherous path that followed Kamal’s death.

Chapter Forty Eight: Duties

Praveena cherished her experience teaching in her own school. On her second day, she decorated her room. She covered the table in a white spread and placed a photo of Niveda, Anil, and herself. That picture was a reminder of the evil of drugs and its effect on wonderful relationships. She had also brought the painting she had done in college, the one with three stallions basking undisturbed in a valley. She stuck the painting on the wall behind the table so that it was the first thing any one would see when they entered the room. The rest of the wall, she left bare, unsure what to add. She had planned to collect paintings and writings from her students and display them as an exhibition one day.

Kareem had asked her to fill in as a temporary art teacher. The current teacher had left on a maternity leave. And so, Praveena met with her first class, the third year students. After a warm welcome, she asked them all to paint whatever came to their mind. At the end of the forty five minutes class, only a handful of students had finished their drawings.

“Alright, everyone.” she called as the bell signalled end of class. “leave your drawings on my desk, you can continue tomorrow.” she clapped her hands to get their attention. One by one, she saw the students examining their drawings critically as they came up to submit it. Praveena gathered all the paintings and was about to lock them away when she saw a girl, too small for her age, still poring over her drawing at the back of the class. Praveena went to her and stood over her, watching. The little girl looked up, her eyes wide in fear, at Praveena.

Praveena smiled at her, “That’s a beautiful house,” she complimented, “shall we continue tomorrow?” she held out a hand, and the girl handed over her incomplete drawing. “Thank you,” Praveena smiled. She went over to the cupboard and locked the paintings away. She then turned to the students who were all on their feet. “See you tomorrow, girls” She waved a hand at them. As she turned to leave, she noticed Mr Andrew on the doorway.

Praveena swallowed. She hadn’t expected him to be here. Mr Andrew’s face reflected her shock. “Praveena?” he asked incredulously. “you are the new art teacher?” he shook his head in disbelief.

Praveena forced a smile. “Yes, Sir” she said. “How are you?” she inquired more out of courtesy than of concern.

“Fine,” he said in a flourish. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.” He walked past Praveena into the class room and Praveena left as soon as she could.

She was having lunch in her room when there was a curt knock on her door. She opened the door to Ms Marrie. “Hey, Praveena!” she beamed. “How’s work?”

Praveena smiled and gestured Ms Marrie into the room. Ms Marrie took the new chair Praveena had requested. “So, how is work?” Ms Marrie repeated.

“Ah, it’s great Miss!” Praveena gleefully replied taking her seat, facing Ms Marrie. “I love it,” she said, “but, I didn’t expect to run into Mr Andrew.” she sighed.

“Ah, yes” Ms Marrie smiled apologetically, “that, I forgot to tell you.” she smiled innocently. Praveena smiled, shaking her head. “he hasn’t changed much, has he?” she observed.

“Somethings never change,” Ms Marrie nodded.

“Are any of the old teachers still here?” Praveena asked tentatively, making Ms Marrie laugh.

“Selima left about a year after you finished,” smiling at the look of relief on Praveena’s face. “and the others too have left. It’s only Andrew and me now.” She finished laughing.

Anil called Praveena on Saturday morning.

“Hey, Praveena” he spoke softly. “how are you?”

Taken unexpected by his call, she replied delightedly. “I’m great! Sounds like MBA has softened you a bit,” she laughed teasingly.

“Maybe,” he laughed too. He had called to check on her and her experience teaching. They chatted away happily for about thirty minutes.

When she disconnected the call, Praveena felt her happiness double. She smiled to herself.

As months flew by, Praveena gained a lot of friends in the form of students. She was the teacher who respected them and agreed with them when they complained about the overload of homework.

Praveena felt like a child herself when she was with her students.

One day, during lunch, the little girl from the third grade came over to her room.

“Hello, Helen” Praveena greeted her, escorting the girl into her room and helping her sit. Praveena noticed Helen’s huge, black, bloodshot eyes. “What can I do for you, Helen?” she asked gently kneeling down in front of the girl.

All of a sudden, the girl began weeping and shaking uncontrollably. Praveena hadn’t expected this. Trying not to panic, she made an effort to console the girl. She hugged her, stroking her head reassuringly.

“Helen,” she spoke softly. “What happened?” She looked at the girl who stared back at her, eyes streaming. “It’s — my father,” she stammered, difficult to speak.

“What happened to him?” Praveena asked patiently.

Helen shook her small head vigorously. “Helen…” Praveena urged quietly.

The girl sniffed away tears, trying to speak. “Dad,” she began “drinks every day and beats Mom asking for money. He hit me today,” Praveena watched helplessly as the girl’s eyes swelled with tears.

That evening, Praveena went home determined to help the girl. She wanted to talk to the girl’s father and explain the impact of his behaviour on his child.

“Pa,” Praveena spoke to her father as he came home that night. “Hmm?” he looked at her. His expression grew worried as he saw Praveena’s disturbed face.

Praveena told him of the day’s events. Kamal listened with a rising sense of dread. He didn’t like where this was going. “I’m going to talk to the father,” Praveena said with an air of finality, “and I want you to come with me,” she added and paused for his reply. She was ready to argue with him if he disagreed.

To her utter surprise, “I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” he said and left for his room.

Praveena stood in the living room, dazed.