Monday, August 11, 2008

Tiny Hands

- by Ayesha Parveen 24 Sep 2008
Category: Others
This story has been read 78 times.

Muhib's wife divorced him and he lost his job the same week. He had never believed that his marriage could fall apart. As his former-wife Anu had left him, she had called him ‘a total failure’.

Muhib remembered how hard he had tried to save his floundering marriage; however, Anu had no interest in it any longer and had blamed him for whatever had gone wrong over the last eight years. When she had asked for a divorce, he had not contested it and the legalities were settled amicably. Within him, nevertheless, a storm raged; after all, he had loved this woman who now had nothing to do with him. Muhib got the custody of his daughter Dipti, as Anu was not keen to have the child with her.

Unable to come to terms with what was happening to him, Muhib had become inattentive in his work and as misfortune would have it, his boss asked him to leave. Thinking life could never be good to him now, he went home that day to find his ailing father had come to live with him. Wanting to give his son whatever support he could, the old gentleman had sold his cherished house and ancestral land in the village, and come to Muhib.

As he gratefully hugged his father, Muhib let the tears fall on the once-broad shoulders. Other than the emotional support he would be getting from his father, he was relieved for his two year-old daughter Dipti. Her grandfather would take care of her when her Daddy was not home.

Muhib had always dreamt of starting a business; now, with the unexpected support from his father, he started giving his dream a chance. The next three years flew by for Muhib as his business started growing. But his heart ached; he had not forgotten Anu’s calling him ‘a total failure'. Even now, her words remembered would sting in a way that hurt his self-esteem.

Time does not stand still and one day, Muhib's father passed away, peacefully in his armchair, as the five year-old Dipti was telling him her favourite story, that of a fairy with blue wings.

Shattered by the death of his father, Muhib thought he could no longer face life. Perhaps he should have taken better care of the old gentleman, he thought with a feeling of guilt. Moreover, he now had to take care of Dipti and to him it seemed his path was strewn with insurmountable difficulties. For the first him in his life, Muhib believed Anu had been right about him.

After cremating his father's mortal remains, Muhib went to get his daughter from his neighbour's place. Back home, as Dipti sat on her father's lap, in the house that now seemed empty, she cupped Daddy's face with her tiny hands and asked, "Daddy, Grandpa has left me and gone to God. Who will talk and play with me now?"

For the second time as a grown-up, Muhib cried. He was all little Dipti had. As he looked into her eyes so full of trust, he knew his child was God's best blessing for him. As Dipti put her head on her father's big chest, Muhib understood that life is more than pain and hurt: it is about love healing all wounds. He would pass on to his daughter the legacy of love he had received from his father.

( This post is dedicated to the memory of Mr. Smaran Ghosal. He was my childhood-friend Paula's father and very much a father-figure to me. Some of the happiest hours of my life were spent in his house and he always had a kind smile and an encouraging word for me.
Mr. Ghosal passed away on 10 July, 2008, in Kolkata. I miss him. )