Babita OS: Father

Father

Father.

It's a six lettered word but it carries so much meaning that at times even Babita has difficulty holding it.

When Babita thinks back to her own father, she often wonders how different would her life have been had he acted a bit differently. Rather than giving in to the pressures of society, what if he had allowed her to pursue her studies? How would he have reacted upon hearing Ashok's betrayal? Would he have grovelled and begged Ashok to take her back or would he have taken her back home with his head held high?

Regardless of what Pinku said, she knew her father would have never let them go homeless. Even in his old age, he would have taken on the world and kept her safe from all their atrocities. Babita wiped her tears as she remembered the warmth of his embrace. She was never able to find the same kind of safety while being in his arms. Apart from immense joy, there was always a unspoken promise to protect her from all harm.

A shiver ran through her body as she recollected the last time she saw her father. She had never seen him that still before. There were brief moments when she thought he had been merely sleeping but when she paid a closer attention to his chest, she was told otherwise.

She looked away from the harsh memory that her mind supplied and tried to think back to happier times. Like when her father would drop and pick her up from school on his cycle. She laughed remembering how they would sneak away from her mother's strict eyes and share sugary treats after dinner. The sticky, sweetness of the freshly fried hot jalebis used to burn the roof her mouth because of her impatience. But the way her father would laughingly admonish her made all the burnt mouths worth it.

The tinkling of her bangles brought forth a sweet smile. Running her hands over the colored glass, she was reminded of the first set she was given. She had always been jealous of her mother's bangles. They used to look so pretty on her and the way they rang throughout the house always made her smile. One day, she had spotted a few bangles scattered on her mother's night side table. Climbing up on the bed, she had picked them up and slid them down her arm. They had fallen all the way to her elbows because of how big they were around her wrist. Of course they didn't last long after that as they immediately fell the minute she hung her arm. The bangles broke, her mother scolded her while her father had tried to calm her down. She had cried a bit and her father had taken her out to distract her. Babita laughed how he had carried her in his arms and pointed out to various shops, asking her if she would like something from there. A stuffed toy, kachori, gol gappe, dosas - Babita broke into a hearty laugh. When he couldn't think of anything else, her father always used to bribe her happiness with food.

She ran her hand over her bangles again. They had settled on eating piping hot samosas with some teekhi and meethi chutney. Babita can still hear the oil crackling as the raw samosas were thrown into the huge khadai. The rustling of the newspapers as the samosas were placed in them, the way the grease poured through the papers and coated their hands. She loved hearing the crunch of the samosa. She always believed one can predict the tastiness of a fried food based on the sound of the crunch. She can still feel how her spirits had lifted immediately after having her first bite. She had been happy, holding her father's hand and skipping their way home. Little had she know that her father had plans to make her overjoyed.

There had been a choodi wala strolling down the alleys, calling out for customers. Her father had pulled him over, picked her up and asked the choodi wala to select something for her. After her hands had failed to adorn the ones from morning, she had been afraid to wear some. What if they too fell and broke? Then the choodi wala would yell at her father and she didn't want that. She had flinched back, clutching her father's collar, but the choodi wala hadn't noticed. Instead, he had selected a colorful set of bangles that were far smaller than her mother's had been. With her curiosity piqued, she had let go of her father's collar and leaned forward. Extending her delicate hand, the choodi wala had slid the colorful choodiyan down her arms. She was absolutely amazed by how they had fit her so perfectly. She had looked at her father who was gleaming with happiness. He had shaken her hand to allow the bangles to accompany their notes along with her laughter.

The sound of men laughing down the street brought Babita back to reality.

Those truly were simpler times. Nowadays her life resembled that of a jalebi's. Twisted, and sticky.

She glanced at the clock and noticed it was nearing ten o'clock. Hanuman still hadn't arrived home yet.

Hanuman. Babita wondered what her father would have thought of him. Then again, if her father had been alive, there would have been no reason for her or Minnie to ever meet Hanuman in the first place. Still, she let herself entertain the idea. Either of their homes would have been roaring with laughter, and tales of older times. Hanuman would have been sharing stories of his grandfather while her father would have done the same. There would have been countless discourses on current politics, and the advancements the current generation was making. Her father would have started to recount how during his time they didn't have all the resources that kids like Minnie have now. Babita wondered if her father would have shared his collection of folk songs with Hanuman. She remembered the lyrics sang by him for her mother in bits and pieces. She wondered what type of songs Hanuman would have shared in return. Would he have sang out a few lines?

She straightened in her seat. Can Hanuman even sing? What does his singing voice sound like? She chuckled, wondering if it was besuri or melodic. She will have to bring it up one day. Minnie would have a gala of a time when it happens. Karaoke Fridays would become a tradition in the haveli as she wouldn't rest until they all belted out at least one song. The merriment that will result during those nights is something that Babita now desires. She craved to see that unabashed happiness on her daughter's face. Just like the one that she saw tonight when she was bringing Hanuman downstairs. That unbridled excitement, the hope in her eyes for better and happier days - Babita sincerely wished it never goes away.

She sent a quick prayer of thanks to Mata Rani for sending such a blissful day their way. Despite Hanuman's abrupt departure, he had left behind a family who was eagerly awaiting his arrival. Today, was an eventful day for sure. He had claimed a daughter in front of everyone. Babita grinned. Minnie got a father today. Sure they may have been building their bond with each other slowly as the days went by, but today it was solidified. There could be no question about it. Hanuman was Minnie's father and Minnie was her daughter.

Though her eyes watered, she laughed. As frail and delicate her relationship with Hanuman was, the more solid and immovable Minnie's was with her Hanuman Uncle. Uncle. Would Minnie still refer to him as Uncle? After all, if he's going to call himself her father, then surely he should be addressed by such a title. But what would she call him? Papa? Dad? Bapu? Babita chuckled. It certainly would be odd to hear those words be flung around the house.

Babita sombered a little. If people came to know Hanuman as Minnie's dad then surely they would assume that he was her husband. But they don't have that kind of a relationship. She lightly rubbed her arms, dreading about all the kinds of talks that would surely arise. She wished she could just go up to Hanuman and flatly ask him what their relationship is. In the past few days they have been covering it up with the title of a landlord-tenant but she knows it's far from that. The things that Hanuman has done for them, the love that they has expressed for them - only he's capable of that. If she and Minnie were to move out into a new house, Babita knew they would never receive that same kind of love.

Babita had told Minnie that if Hanuman didn't confess his love then that's okay. She would continue living as they were. With her as his tenant and him as Minnie's father. She took a deep sigh and rubbed the back of her hand. Her heart twisted to the point it became unbearable. As her tears flowed, she allowed herself one wish. She wished Hanuman would want her. All of her, as she is, with her insecurities and flaws. To accept her without any familial pressure or out of a sense of obligation. Just simply want her for himself.

She swiped at her cheek. It was a silly wish. In different circumstances, she would have taken Hanuman's proclamation as a form of confession. That by calling himself Minnie's father, he's also calling himself her life partner. That regardless of what life throws at their way now, they'll deal with it together. But the way he left so suddenly, without saying a single word to them - she knew it wasn't true. She could try to help ease his pain but she had a feeling he wouldn't let her. He would once again draw up the boundaries and prevent her from getting too close. It was completely unfair. He knew them at their weakest points and has helped them become the women they are today. So for him to deny them the right to see him at his weakest, it didn't feel right.

A motorcycle rumbling attracted Babita's attention. Looking over the ledge, she saw Hanuman park his vehicle. She wrestled with herself over whether she should check up on him or not. Her heart was being pulled towards him as if by a magnetic force. She could already feel her hurried steps descending the stairs as Hanuman entered the haveli. Their eyes would have interlocked, their hearts would have sent each other innumerable messages, their footsteps would have been pulled towards each other. She would have asked him how he was doing, and he would have answered. In that rare private moment, she might have even asked him to finish his statement from earlier. And he might have even told her what he couldn't get to say. Their hearts would have soared, and their faces would have been alighted with a new found happiness. And maybe, just maybe, if they had felt brave enough, would have even completed their night with a tight embrace.

Tightening her grip on the ledge, she breathed deeply. She needed to stop torturing herself with these unrealistic fantasies. She didn't know what the future held in store for them. But she knew that she can at the very least ask about his well being after his hurried departure. Whether it's as a tenant or something more, surely she held that right?