Lovely mail or message

What is this thing called love?





“How long will you be with that newspaper? Will you come here right away and make your darling daughter eat her food?”

My wife screamed. I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter Sindu looked frightened. Tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with curd Rice. Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age. She has just turned eight. She particularly detested Curd Rice. My mother and my wife are orthodox, and believe firmly in the ‘cooling effects’ of Curd Rice.



I cleared my throat, picked up the bowl and said, “Sindu, darling, why don’t you take a few mouthfuls of this Curd Rice? Just for Dad’s sake, dear. And, if you don’t, your Mom will shout at me”. I could sense my wife’s scowl behind my back. Sindu softened a bit, and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. “Ok, Dad. I will eat – not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should…” Sindu hesitated, “Dad, if I eat this entire Curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?”



“Oh Sure, darling,” I promised.



Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity. I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child to eat something that she detested. After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation. All our attention was on her. “Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!” was her demand.



“Atrocious!” shouted my wife “A girl child getting her head shaved off? Impossible!”



“Never in our family!” my mother rasped, “She has been watching too much of TV. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!”



It was time for me to call the shots. “Our promise must be kept. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honour her own. Sindu , your wish will be fulfilled”.



With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful. On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom. She turned around and waved. I waved hack with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, “Sinduja, please wait for me!” What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. “May be, that is the in-stuff,” I thought.



“Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!” Without introducing herself, a lady got out of the car and continued, “That boy who is walking along with your daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering from Leukaemia. Harish lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He has been suffering the unintentional, but cruel teasing of the schoolmates. Sinduja promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue. But I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son!”



I stood transfixed. And then, I wept. “My little Angel, will you grant me a boon? Should there be another birth for me, will you be my mother, and teach me what love is.”



It is not what we feel within but it is the expression of this feeling that makes a difference in relationships.