My Story in Deccan Herald!

Can you please remind me about this next week? I will dig out the story from my archives and post it here.
love,
sridhar

 

dear arch,
now only I remember my promise to neethu as well. Here you go. I have dug out the story and am posting it below
love,
sridhar

 

The Story : The Pink Teddy Bear Part 1

The Pink Teddy Bear
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->-<!--[endif]-->A Short Story By Varalotti Rengasamy

“Look here, Dad. Isn’t this pink teddy bear cute? He is going to be with us, you know.”

My ten-year-old daughter Sindu’s words made me panicky. I did not know what to do or how to console her.

“No Sindu. Just keep the teddy bear down. The uncle will scold you. I will get you a bigger teddy bear, Okay?”

“No Dad. I’m afraid of big bears. This is enough for me.”

This is enough! With trembling hands I spied the price tag stuck to the bear’s belly. A cool seven hundred and ninety five Rupees! That was a big fortune for some one in my station.

I am eking out a modest living by drawing pictures for the short stories that appear in the magazines. Though my thoughts fly high in the horizons of art, my foot is firmly placed on the problems and shortages of a typical lower middle class family.

We don’t starve. That’s about the only positive statement I can make about my economic status. Food is no problem; but everything else is.
It was a terrible mistake to have come to this shop to buy an inexpensive gift for my colleague who was getting married the next day.

And a much greater mistake to have dragged my wife and child along for the purpose.

I intuitively knew that nothing works better with my child – or for that matter any child – than a simple honesty and a total transparency.

“Sindumma, can you read the price tag over the teddy bear? Yes, it costs Rs.795/- that is five Rupees short of Eight hundred. Now look at Dad’s purse. See there is only sixty-two Rupees there. How can I buy this for you, even if I badly want to? So I will get this same pink teddy bear for your birthday which is just a month away. Okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The next day when I returned home exhausted not by work but by the lack of it, Sindu came running to me and hugged my legs.

“Daddy, only 29 days are left.”

“What for?”

“My birthday. And for the pink teddy bear to come home to us.”

Sindu made it a habit to countdown the days every evening I returned home. ‘Only 20 days more’. ‘Only 15 days more.’ On seeing her strong desire for the doll I had already made up my mind to get that as her birthday present. But how?

Every month I used to get some extra work – apart from the regular committed work. Some magazine or other would come out with a special number or some newspaper would come out with a special supplement or some calendar or poster manufacturer would give me some extra job. In fact those extra jobs are the only pleasures of our middle class existence.

The committed jobs at the weekly where I regularly work would be just sufficient for the bare necessities of our existence. The extra work would give us the pleasure of a short picnic or a movie show or an extra piece of new dress for any one of us. I had thought that any such work coming now would go to fund that Teddy Bear.

But that month was exceptionally dull. No such work was forthcoming.

When Sindu hugged me that evening to remind me that only ten days were left for the arrival of the pink teddy bear, I feared for the first time that I might be failing in my promise.

The next nine days flew with no significant change in the work situation.

I t was Sindu’s birthday. As I woke up from my bed I almost cried for neither did I have the teddy bear as promised nor could I hope to have the money to buy it. I made up my mind to beg, borrow or steal the money, come what may.

I did not want to see the child without the doll. So I skipped my breakfast and started from the house pretty early. Sindu was still sleeping. When I tried to flee from the room noiselessly Sindu put her face out of the blanket and said,

“Daddy, you forgot to wish me Happy Birthday.”

I had to take herculean efforts to muffle my sobs.

I went near Sindu, kissed on her forehead, mumbling the words, ”Happy Birthday, my dearest.” I had to be extra careful not to spill my tears over her. As I rushed out of the room she called me again:

“I know Dad, you are going to get the pink teddy bear. Please get it soon.”

I was laughing and crying at the same time. After seeing her face and hearing her words, I was prepared to even sell myself for getting the teddy bear for her.

 

The Story : The Pink Teddy Bear Part 2

I made up my mind to approach the sub-editor of the weekly magazine where they gave me regular work and ask for an advance of Eight hundred Rupees.

They can adjust it against the month-end payment. That would make a clean dent in the monthly budget of essential expenses. Never mind. I would skip my breakfast for all the days and the night dinner every other day.

But I found him very busy, as the forms due for the week had not yet been completed. I could see him only at about six in the evening. When I explained my predicament to him, he said with a smile:

“Sethu, you are very lucky. See you have an extra work. You will have to draw pictures for these three stories. The other artist who usually does this job has fallen ill all of a sudden.

Once you finish the job you will get a clean nine hundred bucks. You just asked for an advance, and you have got it as income. Aren’t you damn lucky today?”

“Thanks a lot, Sir. But can I get the money now? I will take this work home and bring it tomorrow morning.”

“No Sethu. This has to go the press tonight itself. The scanning will take about an hour. Which means you will have to do it right here, right now. For a talented artist like you this will take only about two hours at the most. So you can walk away with the loot before it’s eight and celebrate your daughter’s birthday. What do you say?”

I had no choice.

No genuine work has ever been produced by an artist who has one eye on the medium and another on the clock. The moment I started the work I totally forgot about time, about Sindu’s birthday and about the rose teddy bear.

When I finished the three pictures and walked away with the ‘clean nine hundred bucks’ it was already nine fifteen.

I rushed to the gift-shop only to find it locked. Now I have the money to buy that teddy bear, but still could not fulfil my promise to my only daughter.

The pain in my heart now was much greater than when there was no money to buy the doll. ‘How am I going to face Sindu?’

The moment I stepped into the house my wife started complaining.

“You promised Sindu to get that teddy bear. Poor girl! Every time she heard some sound at the gate she came running from the house to see whether you had come. She has not taken her dinner. She said, ’I know Dad will come only with the teddy bear. Then Daddy, teddy bear and I will sit together to eat.’ It’s her birthday and she has not eaten anything. Just now she fell asleep.”

If the earth beneath my feet had given away and I was sucked in, I would have been far happier. What’s the point in living when you cannot fulfil a simple promise to your only daughter and that too on her birthday?

At least had I not promised anything she would have had her food and would have been happy with a cheap box of chocolates my wife had bought for the occasion and would have gone to bed, a happy girl.

But now? She would remember this frustration and pain for all years to come.

I did not have the mind to eat. I was just aimlessly browsing through the complimentary copies of the magazine I worked for. They had announced the results of some competition.

After giving the names of the winners the announcement said that they would be sent gift vouchers worth the prize money which they can exchange for the articles of choice at the designated shops.

I had a flash. I took a chart paper and drew the picture of the teddy bear from my memory. Then I took Sindu’s crayon box and coloured it pink to make it look like the one we saw in the shop.

Then I took the picture and the box of chocolates my wife had bought and went to wake up Sindu. The moment she heard my voice she woke up with a start.

“Sindu dear, happy birthday once again. Here’s the box of chocolates. And here’s the teddy bear you wanted. Now this is the gift coupon for teddy bear. Daddy drew the picture.

If you take this coupon to the shop tomorrow or any other day the shop-uncle will give you the rose teddy bear in exchange for this picture.“

 

The Story : The Pink Teddy Bear Part 3

I had already explained the plan to my wife. The next day whenever Sindu felt like going she should take her to that gift shop. She should pay for the teddy bear in advance without Sindu knowing about it.

Then when Sindu presents the gift coupon with the picture of teddy bear drawn by me the shopwallah would hand over the doll as if it was exchanged for a gift coupon.

Sindu was excited about the picture. She was looking at it for a long time.

“Daddy, this looks exactly like the teddy bear doll in the shop. Thanks, Daddy, for giving me the doll as promised.”

When Sindu kissed me on my cheeks I was not in this world at all.

A s soon as I returned from work the very next day, I asked my wife whether she went to the shop to buy the doll.

“Sindu didn’t ask for it today. I even gently reminded her about the doll. She said she would get it some other day. I don’t know why.”

I was perplexed. A child who was counting the days for the arrival of the doll for the past one-month did not show any interest now to buy the doll.

What could be the reason? I thought it would be a nice idea to take my daughter to the shop myself.

“Sindu dear, why didn’t you go to the shop today? If you give the gift coupon they would have given your pink teddy bear. It’s okay. Can we go now? So that you can sleep with the real teddy bear tonight.”

Sindu was looking at me lost in thought. What happened to her? I went near her and felt her forehead. She was quite all right.

After a while she spoke firmly:

“I have changed my mind, Dad. The picture you drew is very good. Who will have the mind to give it to the shop-uncle? No, Dad. I don’t want that pink teddy bear. I love to have your picture. And I won’t part with it for anything else in the world.”

Even if my picture had won the first prize in an international competition I would not have been so happy.

I had a sudden urge to buy all the pink teddy bears in the whole world and place it at the feet of my daughter.

“O Dad, why are you crying? Did I tell anything wrong?”

I did not have any answer for her question.

 

Dear Meena,
thanks a lot. This story first appeared in Anandhavikatan way back in 2000. Then it's English version appeared in Deccan Herald.
Am I really writing so well? To be appreciated by people like you.. well I feel that I have got enough rewards for my writing.
love,
sridhar