When tomorrow comes
I'll be on my own
Feeling frightened of
The things that I don't know
Amma never came back. The cavity in Nuala's chest just deepened each day, until ice cold numbness grew in its place. She understood that life was unpredictable and death inevitable. Her mother was gone. Was. Past tense. Nuala was all by herself in the big world that seemed more intimidating each day.
The only consolation in her despair was Sparky, a token of her mother's love. It kept her belief in magic alive. It grounded her amongst the sheer mundane and desolate disposition of her life. It was the only safe place for Nuala to reminisce her amma without feeling need to claw out the bone wedged in her lungs or spill out her stomach. Her symptoms didn't go unnoticed by the people around her and with time, amma became a forbidden topic in their household. Any mention of her dead mother had Nuala escaping into a blank space in her mind where she counted backwards from 100 to 1 until the person got discouraged and left her to her own devices. Her heartbreak was the lonely kind where everyone knew something was wrong with her but had no clue how to fix her. They left it upon time to stitch and mend that what was broken within her.
Although time didn't heal her wounds it transformed her. She grew up. Now she could make her own bed, fold her own clothes, wake up early and do all the other things she needed her mother for. Little Nuala wasn't little anymore. She was a young lady of twelve years, who lost her naiveté when she lost her mother.
"Baby, your lunch is ready." Lata, her house help said. Lata was a middle aged woman with three children, a drunken husband and an old mother-in-law who had lost her sight because of cataract. Appa had appointed Lata shortly after amma's departure because he had no idea how to look after their home or Nuala for that matter.
"I'll be there in a minute Lata. Is Aruna coming today?" Aruna was Lata's eldest daughter and the closest thing Nuala had to a friend. She came every weekend to spend time with her and Nuala always looked forward to those meetings. They didn't share secrets or talk a lot, like other adolescent girls but she simply enjoyed having her company, like the peace of drinking cool coconut water on a scorching summer day.
"No. She is taking care of Jeetu, he's fallen ill again." Lata said.
A weekend without Aruna, Nuala tried to not feel too miserable about it. Anyways, she had an important discussion with her father ahead and she felt her nerves go haywire in anticipation.
"Take him to a good doctor please, I can ask appa to give you an advanced salary. He wouldn't say no." Nuala said.
"No baby, it's alright. These children eat all the garbage they sell outside the school and then cry when their stomachs ache." Lata complained but it wasn't so hard to detect concern in her voice. Nuala felt a twinge of jealousy, nobody worried about her like that. Not even her father. She gave up persuading Lata.
*
Lunch started as a formal affair. Her father asked her a few obligatory questions and she replied using as little words as she could. It was a weekly ritual both would rather not participate in but Sunday meant no work for Appa to excuse himself from the duties of a father and no school for Nuala to provide a refuge from their awkward relationship. But this Sunday Nuala had something more to add to the conversation. She waited until Lata served kheer, her father's favourite dessert. She had specifically asked Lata to make it in hopes of softening him.
"Appa?"
"Yes," her father said distractedly. He didn't even look up from the kheer bowl he was devouring. Nuala didn't let his indifference squash her hope. She was waiting the entire week for this opportunity.
"I wanted to go to the school trip this year," Nuala said.
"And where is this trip going?" her father asked, finally giving her his undivided attention. She didn't know if it was good or bad because on one hand she craved the attention of the only parent she had and on the other hand the unflinching scrutiny of her strict appa had her squirming in her seat. She decided that the easiest way was to simply spill the beans. She took a deep breath and said, "Mount Abu." Her voice was barely audible.
"Come again" appa said.
"Mount Abu appa, it's in Rajas-"
"I know where Mount Abu is," he cut her off, "and the answer is no."
"Please, just this one time. I promise I will behave and not cause any trouble. Please. I really want to go."
"I already gave you my answer and it is no."
Nuala didn't expect the conversation to go downhill in such a way. Not so fast. She scrambled for something, anything to add credit to her request. "But appa all my friends are going!"
"You don't have any friends Nuala." Her father pointed out with a sympathetic shrug and went back to eating as if he hadn't just used her insecurity to his advantage. She was appalled at his insensitivity. Her mouth fell open and she gaped at her appa in disappointment and contempt. He knew about it, he knew how lonely she had become and all he did was avoid her at all costs. And now he was conveniently throwing it at her face to get her off his back. Not so easy. She thought. The ice in her heart somehow reached her eyes, melting into warm tears that she tried and failed to keep at bay. She felt betrayed and so, so foolish.
She remembered the numerous PTAs she had to endure alone when her father didn't turn up, her birthdays, her annual days and every other important day when she needed him and he wasn't there. A rebellious rage grew in the pit of her stomach, "why?" she asked her father.
Appa was taking his time with his dessert but today Nuala wasn't having any of his intimidation tactics. She straightened her spine and harshly wiped away her tears. She asked him again, this time loud and clear, "I asked why?" Appa was surprised by the challenge in his daughters tone. She had always submitted willingly to his commands. He sighed internally. He looked at her and sighed. Teenagers. If anything, it only added fuel to the fire burning in her.
"You are not old enough to take care of yourself; it's not safe to send you by yourself."
"By myself? But the teachers, other students and the staff will be present." She countered
"And you expect them to care about you? Trust me; it's in your best interest if you don't go." He said.
"I don't believe you. Give me one logical reason" Nuala crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. He was being overbearingly ridiculous.
"I am your father and I am saying so, as my daughter it's your responsibility to respect my decisions and abide by them." He was starting to lose his patience now. Nuala was angry, furious or as she'd heard in one of those movies pissed off.
"Fine," She said and looked away. There was no point convincing her father whose head was thicker than the walls.
"You are only twelve Nuala," appa tried a softer approach now that he knew he had won. He was shrewd like that.
"Am I? Do you care? You didn't seem to notice that when you left me alone all this time and now suddenly you want to play the role of a concerned father, after all these years? You know what, I. Don't. Care. So save it." She stormed off to her room
He followed her, getting angrier with each step. Even Lata followed them, the situation was getting out of hand and she prayed to Ganesha to give the poor girl some wisdom. She cared deeply for Nuala and did not want her to be punished.
"Nuala you have no idea what you are talking about." Appa said when he finally reached her room.
"Oh, but I do appa, I do!" She screamed and turned away. She didn't even want to look at him.
A tense silence descended upon them. Both were breathing heavily. Lata didn't know what to do. She pulled the end of her sari in her mouth and chewed.
"Amma would never leave me alone. You wish I was dead instead of amma, don't you?" Nuala said bitterly and all hell broke loose. It happened so fast that Lata could only watch and stare in horror. Appa marched to her, spun her around and slapped her hard, the impact of which had Nuala falling on the table beside her bed. Her glass unicorn toppled and fell down, shattering into multiple pieces. Nuala froze. The only memory of her mother was reduced to mere shards. Even broken, her Sparky was beautiful.
Her father regretted it. He had never raised his hand on his daughter. Looking at her devastated face he wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms and apologise over and over. But he did not know how to fix this, fix her. Could she ever forgive him? Did he deserve her forgiveness? He had taken away something he could never replace. How does one go back from that?
"I hate you appa." She whispered curling into a ball on the floor. Her eyes never leaving Sparky, or what was left of it.
Appa left the room, defeated by his own victory. His slumped shoulders and glassy eyes went unnoticed by Nuala who was lost in her own pain.
She fell asleep on the floor, oblivious to the things her father had set in motion for her. That night she dreamt of escaping from this world, on a glass unicorn.
I'm stuck in the dark but you're my flashlight
You're getting me, getting me through the night
______________________________________________________________________
Song: Flashlight, Jessie J
Ganesha - a hindu god
Also in some parts of India it is common to address little girls as 'baby'.
- Riya Surekha Mishra