by Anupama Krishnakumar
[box]Kamali is into her eighth month of pregnancy and is at her parents’ place for her delivery. On one of the weekend evening walks with her Dad in the beach, they have an interesting conversation on the dreams parents have for their children. Anupama Krishnakumar scribbles a short story.[/box]Kamali smiled quietly as the first hint of sea breeze hit her face. She tucked back those loose strands of hair behind her left ear and in a moment, she felt the kick inside her tummy. She was into her eighth month of pregnancy and the kicks were getting more and more pronounced. “Ouch”, she said, “feeling the breeze already, baby?” she added softly. Dad, who was silently gazing ahead, turned around a little surprised. Seeing the quizzical look on his face, Kamali said, “Nothing, Dad. it’s the little one kicking!” His face relaxed. By now, they had reached the main stretch of the beach and were walking on the pavement parallel to it. Kamali had come over to her parents’ home for her first delivery. She treasured the weekend evening walks with her dad to the beach. Exercise, fresh air and most importantly, back to picking up those threads of enlightening conversations with Dad. Oh, how much she missed them after getting married! The sky looked like a canvas of infinite dimensions – colours splashed all across. Kamali was delighted to see the shades – a mix of blue, orange, yellow and white. The sun was gearing up for its setting ritual, ‘a plunge into the horizon’ – Kamali coined the words inside her head.
“A plunge into the horizon” – she said aloud this time and Dad was amused – “sinking into the sea – that’s how I would put it,” he chuckled. The quiet that had filled the space between Kamali and her Dad for much part of the walk today, was now broken. No, the silence was not the uneasy one but the sort that gives a comfortable setting to look around, absorb, and prepare the mind for a bout of fresh, interesting and sometimes intellectual conversations. This day’s conversation began thus: “Kamali,” Dad said, “Tell me, what do you dream about these days?” Kamali smiled. Ok, this evening was going to be interesting. They were still walking and Kamali looked sideways to see if she could catch her dad’s expression. Suddenly, she realized the person she has always looked up to and admired tirelessly was physically a centimeter or two shorter than her. She smiled at the irony, pointless though it was. Replying to his question, she said, “I dream persistently about what I would do for my little one.” “And what are they?” “Sweet nothings, big dreams” “Elaborate.” “Dad, you know, I have already written a piece on it. But to tell you now – tender kisses, little hugs, smiles of pride at every little milestone, nursery rhymes, finger painting, paper boats, dance and kites, quiet moments of looking at my baby’s innocent face when he or she sleeps.” “And then?” “The big ones, of course – letting my kid pursue a cherished dream, being the most supportive mom and bringing up the most perfect human being. I dream of being the ideal mom, Dad.” The gush of words. Kamali had not written the last sentence in her piece that she had scribbled in her diary a few days ago. I dream of being the ideal mom. “You think we should sit down for a while?” Dad asked clearing a cement bench of the sand dotting its surface. Kamali nodded. “Good,” he continued, effortlessly picking up the thread. “Responsible and delightful dreams.”
“So, Dad, you tell me, did you and mom think of similar dreams for me and bro?” For a moment, Dad’s face wore a distant and nostalgic expression. “Hmm..yes, your mom did draw up a big list and I think she has stuck to most of it,” he laughed slightly. “As for me, the biggest dream I had for both of you was to make every moment of your lives seem worth living. Giving you the best I could within my realm of affordability and my knowledge. Giving you the freedom of letting you do what you would like to do and that way, building a sense of responsibility in you.” Much to Kamali’s surprise, Dad caught her hand. She felt a gush of unprecedented love for her father inside her. As far as she had known, he was the most non-sentimental person she had seen. Such rare gestures of affection that he displayed only reinforced the reason why she adored her dad so much – he was the most responsible father she knew and had given her and her brother almost everything that they wanted. He had lived his dream and conveyed his love for his children by adding so much value to their lives. Her eyes were now moist. She was suddenly reminded of the days when she used to come to the beach as a little girl holding her dad’s hand. “You know,” Dad continued, “since you are our first child, we were crazy with excitement. In fact, two days before you were born, I dreamt of a lotus early in the morning. That day I told your mom, if we had a girl we would call her Kamali. So, see, your identity found its origins in my dream.”
Kamali laughed. Dad was still holding on to her hand. “So, Kamali, what did you say? You want to be an ideal mom, isn’t it?” “Yes, Dad.” “But,” he sighed, “since we are human beings we are, I think, born to defy the ideal.” “As in?” “You know it’s sad but in the process of living a life to meet what we dream for our children, we unfortunately begin to nurture expectations. And, when there are expectations together with a sense of attachment, we land up having disagreements.” “It’s unfortunate,” he said again, shaking his head. Kamali shivered a little. She knew Dad was talking about her marriage to Neeraj, a Maharashtrian, while she was a Tamilian. But, didn’t her dad know that she was happy? She wished she could tell him that, again. But, she held back. Somehow, this was one of the very few loose ends in her relationship with her parents, particularly her dad, which could never be tied. ” Dad,” she said, “should we walk back? It’s getting late.” After a moment’s pause, he nodded, still seeming lost. They got up and began walking again. “Remember, dreams and reality may not always be the same. Some of your dreams may not even come true. But, do fantasize once in a while and dream sensibly. You will realize that they are the most helpful anchors in making you feel that living your life with your children is the most wonderful thing,” he said turning to face the sun. The sun had turned a beautiful reddish orange and was close to sinking into the waters. The golden waves continued to kiss the sands and rush back into the folds of the vast expanse of the sea, just like tireless children who have discovered an exciting new game. “Eternal dreams small and big,” Kamali mused, “that are born and nurtured generation after generation,” she paused and continued, “Eternal dreams that sustain mankind just like these excited golden waves that define the sea.” Dad nodded, smiling, and ouch, the little one kicked again!
Pic : kurafire – http://www.flickr.com/photos/kurafire/
[facebook]share[/facebook] [retweet]tweet[/retweet]
