THE FULLSTOP BECAME
COMMA
“That was my
favourite Black mug daddy” I read a red smiley in my daughter’s face. It
accidentally felled from my hand while we were quarrelling for an issue yesterday.
She fought with her friend Varun and slapped him and made his cheek red. “It’s
not good for a 6 old kid to behave like this Venba” I said. The conversation
stopped at the point where I apologised for my accidental act. She never admits
she was wrong because she does the things only which she think right at the time.
She made me,
a different me in this 6 years. I was habituated to be a father. In some of her
attitude I could find myself. At the end of the day, the dispute ended up at
dining table. She had slept on my chest and I laid on the sofa. The mobile
screen showed the time 11:30 pm. I cupped my sleeping little angel to her room
and freed her on bed and covered her upto shoulders with blanket. When I about
to return from her room I saw the photo of Thamizh on the wall. Thamizh was the
mother of Venba.
I met Thamizh at my college days. I
had seen her in our college cultural meet and felled for her instantly.
Rejection was the first stage later it turned to love. We made a magnet couple
with unlike poles. She was so quit in nature, intelligent, soft by heart and
words. She too occasionally gets angry for the right thing and at right time. In
mean time I had led a thug life. Our relish for one another got increased from
time.
By the time she meant to me to an
extent that my life was empty without her. There came a time, when I
articulated my father the wish to marry her. He denied. I had no other option than
to quit my home for her. In the game I played with time, it won. Her father
insulted our proposal of marriage. As the end I missed her to death.
Thinking of my love I didn’t know
when I had slept. Next day I’ve dropped my little angel at her boarding school.
I have advised her to at least behave as a girl rather than to be a good girl.
I know my words will not even enter her ears, but some series of tries would
win. Getting into my car I have started to drive the continuation of previous
day’s story. Till I reach the publisher’s office I dreamt of my post life of love
rituals. Drunker, chain smoker, unpleasant face, my fitness vanished behind my
beer belly. One day, when I can’t even see beyond the spirit clouds a blured
face with bangled hand gave Venba in my hand and the oracle sounded that, “I
trust you. Take my child, and she is yours from now. Just live for her”. The
cloud had shed some tears on my hands. It has been 6 years when I had Venba in
my hand.
Come in Mr. Maran said a voice. I
followed the voice which belongs to a 120kg heavy man. The owner of “The
pleasant story” publications. After formal greetings he said that my manuscript
was good and will make huge profit if released. We discussed about the profit
share and the date of release of my 3rd novel. Before returning home
I have met my friend who was a police officer in his office. “Not yet” was the
reply got for my question ‘”Did you traced the details?”on my old classmate. I
have reached my home and found it closed. I have waited for the larger part of
an hour. She came and opened the door by saying that she had went to market. Sowmiya
, my so called wife.
Sowmiya called me for lunch. I denied
saying that I had mine at hotel on way home. This had become quotidian to be
called by her for something and would be denied by me for some reasons. She had
been tucked as my wife after continuous emotional extortion of my family. I’ve
warned Sowmiya about my regret on my lost love and non interested marriage. Though
she lowered her head for my mangal suthra, I couldn’t take her as my wife. My
feelings for Thamizh stood tender till date. I and Sowmiya constitute a
strangers couple. I have brought up Venba as my child. She never called sowmiya
‘mom’.
My days rolled with vitals like
Venba, and my passion on writing. I had quit my low paid job for my novels
which brought me some profit, fan base and satisfied living. I would wait for
weekends to get my daughter into my hand. Some times Venba acted as her DNA,
and sometimes she reacted as like me. Venba’s behaviours confirmed that her
CCTV camera note every my actions and repeats as like the footage. There were
some exemplary situations which Venba followed my footage.
My hair turned white by time, and
little bald. I devised 12 successful novels when my little girl turned 20. In
times she crossed some love proposals which she refuted humbly but made many
male friends. As she grows, she became my bestie. She proved her excellence in
academics and sports. She also had some smooth conversations with Sowmiya after
her puberty in such cases she can’t discuss with me. Nevertheless her attitude
towards discrimination never settled. Here I am in her college to meet her Principal
and HOD for a ragging case. Yes as usual. No boys have gall to rage her but she
proved her heroine within to the boys ragged her junior friend.
“Meet Mr. Prathyugna and his mother”,
introduced the HOD. The Principal started chanting complaint slogams on Venba.
She stood straight. I’ve turned towards Prathyugna and his mother to make my
apology. Venba stopped me not to pardon as he was the guilt. His mother
accepted my unsaid apology and commented that Venba was purely my photocopy. Wait...
his mother resembled someone I know earlier. I had recalled my college days to
get that name. Yes, she resembled like Parkavi.
I suddenly got that tejavu effect
about that alcoholic day. Parkavi was my classmate at my college. She
discontinued her studies to get married and flown to abroad with her better
half. She called me once to tell that she was carrying. That is the time of
recession period of my life and I had been sunk into cocktail glasses and
mariguana chillums. On that day she gave me her wombout to me to make me a man.
Since then she never called me. I could not trace her out. This was an
accidental meeting with Parkavi. I had run to catch her, but her car touched
the horizon already.
I inquired Venba how long did she
know her. She replied that for a long time. I pleased the Principal and got
Parkavi’s on use mobile number. The call was not picked for several times and
at last I heard it was switched off. I had seen her again but my search for her
was not over.
