Fiction
“I’m sorry, mum,” said little Nancy. She apologised for everything from spilling
the milk to forgetting to kiss her goodbye before leaving for school. Just the opposite of her father.
Sheetal smiled wryly as she remembered the day he said
goodbye to her husband. “You are so
arrogant. What do you think you are to
possess such a Himalayan ego? You commit
all kinds of blunders while dealing with people. You don’t know how to behave in a
society. You make a fool of yourself in
every party after taking the first drink....”
It was endless list of omissions and commissions. “And you never apologise even if you know you
committed the most heinous offence.
Learn to apologise, that’s the
least you can do!”
“Mum,” asked Nancy while the car was moving away from
her father’s house, “what does ‘apo...’, ‘apol...’, ‘apolg...’ mean?”
Mum looked into her eyes for a moment and kissed her
cheek.
She repeated the question a number of times in
different ways on various occasions even weeks after they had started living in
their new house.
“It means to say sorry, darling,” finally Mum
explained to her the meaning of ‘apologise’.
She used the word ‘sorry’ very generously after that as if her mum’s
ultimate delight lay in that word.
“If dad comes and says ‘sorry’,” Nancy asked one day,
“will we live together again?”
Nancy missed dad, Sheetal knew. Dad was very fond of her. He was her playmate in the evenings and on
holidays. They would play with her
toys. She would climb on him, tickle
him, pull his ears... He would smother
her with kisses...
Sheetal knew that Gaurav loved her too. But he could never express it the way he did
it with Nancy. He was clumsy whenever he
had to deal with adults. And he
concealed his clumsiness by creating an air of arrogance.
The arrogance hurt most of the time. It was blatantly insensitive. He blamed her for everything because of that
arrogance. His ego could never accept
his own mistakes.
If he dropped the glass from his computer table, she
was at fault for not taking it away after he had finished drinking the
water. If the computer hanged it must be
because she visited some “idiotic” site.
If he trampled on her toes, it was because she came and stood in the
wrong place.
“At least once, once in your lifetime, can’t you say
‘sorry’?” she asked him once. “I won’t
talk to you unless you apologise.” He
had slapped her when she argued with him over the school he had chosen for
Nancy. She didn’t want that particular
school which was meant for the upwardly mobile social classes who always loved
to buy a better car than their neighbours.
His view was that his daughter should be proud of her school. The argument started. On the meaning of pride. And ended in the slap. A slap is the last word of the person who is
incapable of carrying forward even an argument, let alone a discussion.
The apology never came. But Sheetal forgave him, nevertheless.
Forgiveness has limits, however. She had reached the end of the tether when she walked out with Nancy.
She knew Gaurav would miss Nancy. She knew he wouldn’t be able to live long
without her.
She was right.
Gaurav came one Sunday. With an abundance of Nancy’s favourite sweets
and snacks. And a bouquet of orchids for
Sheetal.
When Sheetal brought coffee for him, he was playing
with Nancy and knocked the tray accidentally.
“I’m sorry,” said Sheetal as she tried to balance the
tray in her hands.
“Oh no, it’s my fault,” said Gaurav taking the tray
from her hands.
What! Did he
say it really? Sheetal looked at
him. Into his eyes. He was looking into hers. Did she see a new light in those eyes? She thought she did.
Nice, real and appealing story. Ego can burn houses and they were lucky to get back. I loved the line 'Forgiveness has limits, however'. In the end I was left with Sheetal would be in a very good feeling because when you forgive someone without anything in return and then time passes and the other person realizes is more solace than holding grudges.
ReplyDeleteHolding grudges ruins us, Shweta. You're so right. It's the worst thing a person can do. And the other is the ego which burns houses, as you put it so beautifully. Male chauvinism is nothing more than ego chauvinism, the answer of the person who cannot take a discussion beyond his ego...
DeleteGood story and the right message. Very well narrated, or rather pictured.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Ranjana. I'm trying the classical advice of Henry James, I think, of "showing" (you said, "pictured") rather than narrating. I'm simply delighted by your comment. It takes me a step ahead in story telling.
DeleteBeautiful piece. Concise with emotional peaks. Well... I'm confused what the word 'thought' in last line mean - whether it's a happy end or not?
ReplyDeleteHuman interactions are complex, Ravish. That's what I wanted to show. The ego is the hindrance. If we let go the ego, we all know the reality: that we love. Yet "thinking" may come in between all the time. That's life and it has to go on...
Deletevery nice..........
ReplyDeleteThanks, Amul.
DeleteBeautiful, positive and most importantly real ! Emotional without being teary and provoking thought without being preachy ... Great !
ReplyDeleteDelighted to hear such words, Kokila.
Delete