Alarm went off at 4.30 AM, while I was already awake looking out of the window of my room at Holiday Inn Maidenhead, where am stationed since last one week. Was it eagerness to see her or the chirping of the birds which woke me up, I was not sure. I had to board a train in an hour’s time to Birmingham to meet her, my little niece Arlene.
On my last visit a few months back, she was too young to lay her eyes on me, but her recent pictures had made me feel that she might recognize me this time. Having devoted myself in work for quite a few years, I had merely forgot the emotional touch of meeting someone as close in the family.
I started to walk towards the station with a heavy bag, thanks to the official dell laptop, but no pain was felt on the shoulder, as her recent pictures floated in front of my eyes, as if she was waiting for me to arrive. Of the few things I adore about UK is the punctuality and timeliness which is followed in every aspect including travel, but unfortunately today my scheduled train was cancelled and I was standing at Reading station waiting for the next train arriving in about 30 minutes. A delay, which was sad, but I couldn’t defy.
My brother received me at the station and here I was looking at her, she greeted me with a bright and fresh smile. She held my finger as I moved my hand towards her’s and she started gurgling in her musical voice. I felt as if she was telling me all the little stories of days she spent here and telling me how much she wished we could meet. I felt she asked me about everyone back in India including her Dadi and confirmed that she would come to meet all of us soon.
When she was born, my neighborhood aunt had said that she has the same surname as mine and thus she would be more dearest to me than to my mother and yes today I could feel the love and affection for her, which was lost long back within me somewhere unknown. I sat around her most of the time, she often interacted with me with her eyes and gurgling a complaint that I didn’t bring her any gift. I went to high street to quickly pick up a few dresses for her and she wore them with a radiant awe in her eyes. She often held the frock as to show to my brother and bhabhi that I have brought it for her. How kiddish I felt, but it brought a peculiar feeling of happiness of the little gift I had bought for her.
Such innocence is what children bring to our harsh lives. They themselves bring out the feelings of love, tenderness and affection for them and we become just like them for sometime.
I often wonder how strange is our existence and life? How we are born in the womb of our mother as a seed, grow up in the hands of strange people who become our family and are submerged in earth or water after we die and leave only memories for others who survive. The soul remains alive and it becomes a part of some other family and lives on the next life.
2 eventful days passed around her, where I heard her voice, saw her smile, captured her in pictures and looked awfully when she cried and here I was standing next to her with a heavy heart to say bye. She again held my finger as if she disapproved of my release from her love and attention. But somehow I managed to steal myself from her eyes which were still looking for me when I left the house.
Back in train, while listening to songs on mobile, her recorded voice just somehow came in the play list and I could do nothing but just smile!!
I too will miss you Little Ms Dhingra and would be eager to meet you again, but we both have to wait for a while!!
Written at 2 AM on 11th May 2010, I owe this blog to her and I couldn’t sleep without completing it tonight.
