I watch her as she adjusts the cushions on her bed, wraps the blanket around her little body, hugs her teddy tight and looks at me eagerly and asks ‘Won’t you come to bed with me Mamma’. I lie next to her in bed, my face resting on the side of her shoulder, her tiny fingers entwined around mine, suddenly she turns around and says ‘Why don’t you tell me that story again’, her big brown eyes looking at me inquisitively.
‘But you have heard it a million times darling.’
‘One more time, Mamma’.
So I pull her closer for a warm hug, and begin to narrate the story under the dim lights of her bedroom. ‘Long time ago’, I begin, ‘There was once this boy and a girl whom he loved very much’. As I continue with story, I see the varied emotions exhibited on her face, how she chuckles with glee when I tell her about the time when the hero of our story burns a hole into his girlfriend’s duppata or the sorrow in her eyes when I tell her about the time they hugged each other goodbye. For her the story is the greatest fairy tale romance, the kind of magic that little children wish on stars.
‘So, on the last day as he packs his bags to leave, the bell rings…’ I continue. ‘When he opens the door, aah he is so surprised to see her, standing there with her bags beside her,’ completes Mia excitedly. As I finish the story, I see that Mia has already curled up and is ready to sleep, I kiss her goodnight and leave the room, the story still playing in my mind’s eye, except towards the end, my heart feels heavy for I know that the bell never rang, she never came, they never had their happily ever after. The truth was, she didn’t have the courage to fight for love, when it was time to choose between duty and love, she chose the former.
Life is strange You don’t always get what you want. I often wonder how different life would be if I had really packed my bags and met him at his door step. Would we be happy? How would our children look? Would we still be able to sit close to one another, and gaze at the beach without feeling the need to break the silence? Would we still be in love? And then I think of Mia. The first time I saw her, she was lying in a rusted cot in an orphanage in Bombay. How my heart swelled with love when I first held her. We were two broken spirits, we both had pasts that we wanted to leave behind, but if there is one thing I want Mia to learn is that love isn’t everything, courage is.
Every decision we make in our lives is the result of the courage that lies within us. I want her to make mistakes, though it would break my heart to see her fail. I’d be glad that she isn’t sitting in her living room and playing a game of what ifs. I want her to fight for things she stands for, and if there is a guy who loves her with all his heart, I want her to pack her bags and wait for him at his door step, hug him tight and never let go. Maybe love isn’t a onetime thing, but life sure is.