FEARS AND INSECURITY
SIGNS OF STRONG HEART
Sartaj's call perturbed me. After six years, he is calling to wish happy birthday to his daughter! There is something else which compels him to call his boring wife.
'Who has given you my number? And, after six years you get a time to wish your daughter!' I asked calmly though I wanted to shout at him but don't know why I couldn't shout at him, fight with him.
"I tried but you changed your number. Also, I was in U.K. so couldn't come to know about your whereabouts," he justifies himself. But why? "Please, let me talk to my daughter," I couldn't refuse. I carry sleeping Sarima in my arms and turn on the speaker, 'You can talk to her.'
"Hello Sarima! Happy birthday my little princess," Sarima unwillingly opens her eyes. "Who are you? My birthday is over. I cut the cake."
"I am your....," I turn off the speaker and hold the mobile. 'She is sleeping. Good night,' I disconnect his call.
Sarima sleeps again but I, as usual, get a new reason to stay awake. I make one more cup of coffee and sit on the bed near Sarima, stroke her silky hair. 'My poor girl! She doesn't know who called up.' My eyes well up with tears. I never try to hide anything from her but not told her everything completely. When she first time asked me about her father, "Mamma, where is my father? He never comes from his office." 'He is your father,' I took out his photograph from one of the suitcases I got from 'his house'.
"My Papa is so handsome. I love you, Papa," she kissed the photograph of the man who left her when she needed him. "Where is he?"
'He doesn't live with us,' I replied without looking at her innocent face.
"He doesn't like Sarima?" her question made my heart dropped.
'He loves you, my darling,' I couldn't be so callous like her father.
She keeps asking me about her father now and then but my same reply makes her irritated sometimes. She has kept his photo in her cupboard. I don't know why I couldn't throw out his photographs, couldn't erase the bitter traces of my married life.
Today, after our divorce, he called up first time. He never tried to meet his daughter. But why now?
The Sun rays slowly drifts into my room and makes me awake. The coffee cup kept on the table reminds me about the terrible catastrophe occurred last night. His calmed but shattered voice confounds me.
It's 9 in the morning. Holiday for Sarima means sleeping only, like me. I dial Mumma's number after freshened up and making coffee for myself. "Hello Samaira! All well? You called up?" Mumma gets worried if I call her in the morning or late night. 'Yes Mumma. Can you come to my house today? But don't tell anyone,' I want to tell her about Sartaj's call. "What happened? Sarima is fine?" She asks in her worried tone. 'Yes, she's fine. I want to spend some time with you today but not there, at my home and no need to get worried,' I don't want to mention 'him' on the phone as it may get Mumma worried. "I'll reach in an hour," she says and drops the phone. Sarima gets cheerful to see her Nani (Grandmother). Mumma makes Parantha for us, reminds me of my college days. After breakfast, Sarima gets busy in watching her favorite cartoons while I and Mumma sit in the balcony. "Now, tell me what bothers you. I know you," her touch brings tears to my eyes. Mother can read her daughter's eyes. I told her about Sartaj's call. She remains silent for few minutes. "Let him meet Sarima once," her words make me numbed. 'He'll take my daughter away. I have nothing except her. You know Mumma, she's my life,' I begin to cry.
"If he wanted to take his daughter, he would have taken her custody during the case." Mumma tries to make me relaxed. "Let him give a chance to meet her. Let's see his motive behind craving for his daughter. And, don't worry about Sarima. She's your daughter and will remain yours only. I won't let him ruin you again."
'But I don't want to give him my address,' I am getting breathless with a thought of seeing him. I know, despite of my hatred for him, my heart still beats for him. I have no courage to see into the 'sea rover blue' eyes. Shivers crawl up my spine at the mere thought of seeing the man whom I once loved or still love.
"If he could find out your contact number, getting your address is not a big deal for him," Mumma seems tensed. "Wait for his next call and if he asks, let him meet Sarima. I know he will definitely call."
Mumma and I sit with Sarima to give her news about her father who was lost in his world and appears after six years in our world again. 'Sarima, do you want to meet your father?" I tell her about his call on her birthday. She listens carefully how his father leaves us and called up yesterday after six years, though I haven't said anything about her father's love affair. She gets ready to meet him.
Mumma is right. He calls again in the evening. Thank God! Mumma is still here as she's has decided to stay here for few days. I think she is also worried if he comes here then how would I handle the situation.
"Hello Samaira! How are you?" His question makes me compel to answer that I didn't want.
'I am same as you left, I am where you left me,' the words slipped from my tongue. I regret for making him realize that I am still wounded.
He hasn't said anything, remains silent.
'Please wait, I'll give phone to Sarima.
'Sarima, your father is waiting to talk to you.' Her reaction makes me nervous. My little girl will talk to her father after six years. Actually, after eight years, since she was too young to remember him.
"Hello! Are you my Pa....pa?" I run towards balcony to control my tears. Mumma is sitting with Sarima so, I sit in the balcony. But can still hear my doll's voice.
"Why did you not come yesterday on my birthday?" she asks in a complaining voice. "I wanted to see you, Papa."
Oh! Why has Sarima express her wish to meet him? I have to go with her and I want to avoid this situation. After the call, Sarima comes to me with her Nani. Mumma looks at me, "Sarima will tell her Mamma about the conversation with Papa." I understand that I have to quietly listen what she says.
"Papa said he loves me. He said he has bought a doll for my birthday. Mamma, I said that I have many dolls, my Mumma gifted me. I don't want more. I want my Papa. I said I want to see him." She brings his photograph from her cupboard, "He looks like this photo, Mamma?"
"Yes," Mumma replies to see me sitting motionless. I get scared to see her excitement for her father. If she will not come back? If Sartaj's charming looks and class entice my daughter, as I got fascinated with his suave manner. I won't let him snatch my daughter. Never....
A message flash on my screen. He messaged about the 'venue' meeting point where he wants to meet Sarima. 'Mumma, you go with Sarima,' I know she is strong enough to face Sartaj.
"No, you go with her. You are her mother; I'll also accompany you but you've to go. Face him. You haven't done anything wrong."
'Anxiety can stop you in your tracks and hold you back. It's not easy to face your fears and push through them, but it's essential.'
I have decided to face 'the face' who left bruises on my soul.
I take out denim jeans and pullover to wear. Mumma gets annoyed, "Wear something graceful. You are well settled woman who's confident enough to take care of your daughter. Appearance and clothes rule the world."
She chose maroon tailored jacket with slim fit beige trousers paired with beige boots.
I keep staring at myself in the mirror. Sartaj left me because he didn't find me 'interesting', he couldn't live with a plump wife. He taught me a lesson to love yourself. If he hadn't left me, I would have never thought about myself, to maintain my figure, to become a successful woman.
We reach at the address given by him. It's a nice restaurant for kids in Hauz Khas. Sartaj is a perfection, whatever he does, even he ditched me with a perfection. The moment we enter, a familiar face turns towards me. He's not the man who was so proud of his charming looks and an ideal physique.
"Hello! Please come," he accompanies us to the booked table. Sarima stares at him in wide-eyed amazement. I can understand her confusion. He is not the image of her father which she has made. He runs his fingers through his silver locks. He looks ten years older than his age. Why?
"What would you like to have?" His calmed voice intervenes my thoughts.
'Soup,' I reply and he orders chicken mushroom soup. He still remembers! It hardly matters to me now. He and Sarima are busy in talking though both are not completely comfortable. While talking to Sarima, he glances at me. Why? Sarima is gradually getting comfortable in his company which makes me unsecured.
"Pa..pa... (Sarima is still uncomfortable in addressing him Papa, she has first time in her life addressed someone with this title) you are looking old but in the photograph you look young. How?"
Oh! Sartaj would know that I have still kept his photograph. I wanted to say something but remain silent.
"Your Papa was young in the photograph but got old now," he answers and looks at me. I turn off my face to avoid eye contact. I feel proud on me, waiting for years to see him 'getting old', 'boring'.
Sarima bids goodbye to her father. Sartaj waves while looking at my brand-new car.