"How far is Pollachi from here?" she inquired while lying on the floor beneath the bed.
"A hundred and fifty miles will be close."
"Is that what this two-day trip is for? Is one day enough?"
She's anxious to meet her father. I sensed that seeing him as soon as possible, sharing everything that happened, being with him... that's all that's on Devu's mind now.
"Eh, I'm not accustomed to driving such long distances. I'll get very tired. And we'll need to figure out where your father's friend is in Pollachi... Besides, I mentioned I'd be gone for two days."
"Oh oh... is Pollachi such a large town, Nandu?"
"Haven't I been there..."
She continued to ask questions one after another, like little children seeking answers. I was providing responses to each.
"It's my first time going that far. So are we going by car?"
"Yes."
"Ah... aren't all Tamilians there? How will we find Raman uncle? Does Nandu know Tamil?"
"Don't know."
"Oh, what will we do, Nandu?"
"We'll figure it all out..."
"And Nandu..."
Is there no end to her questioning?
"Could you please quiet down and rest for a while? We're going there anyway..."
As I ceased speaking in a playful tone, the woman below made a sharp sound. She's elated to see her father. However, the certainty that he's still in Pollachi hasn't fully settled in yet.
Devu was exceptionally diligent in preparing to leave the next day, ensuring everything was packed. However, her eyes welled up with tears as she bid farewell to everyone and got into the car, as if she had resolved that there was no turning back.
Her sorrows seemed to dissipate as the car moved forward. She observed all the sights along the roadside with the wonder of a child experiencing them for the first time.
"Father will be surprised when we arrive there looking for him, won't he, Nandu?"
At some point, she began to speak. Although I wasn't certain if Dad was still there, I didn't want to shatter her hope. I merely responded with a hum.
"This is the first time my father has left me alone for so long. Let me go there and find out, I..."
She was speaking to no one in particular.
"Are you going to confront him?"
I inquired playfully.
"I will. I'll give him a piece of my mind if necessary. He left me alone..."
I didn't respond, finding her words somewhat amusing.
"Nandu, have you ever had a disagreement with your father?"
"No... he left without even a disagreement..."
Her expression darkened upon hearing my answer. She must have felt it was a mistake to ask. My father had passed away in an accident when I was not even a year old. Our mother played the role of teacher for all of us, and she was aware of that. Perhaps it was mentioned by my sister-in-law. Nonetheless, she asked in her excitement. The poor girl realized her mistake only after the question left her lips.
"Sorry..."
"Why?"
"Does it hurt to ask?"
"Hey... what's the use of worrying about someone who isn't even in our memories?"
Upon hearing my response, she smiled and gazed out of the car.
"Like my mother, right?"
Her question came swiftly. I regarded her with curiosity.
"I don't recall my mother either. She didn't leave me with anything to remember. But sometimes, I imagine that if I had my mother, things might have been different."
I saw her eyes welling up. She couldn't hold my gaze, turning her face away once again.
"Hey, are you crying again? What's wrong? It's like you always cry like a baby... Please, wipe your eyes and sit up straight..."
About halfway through the journey, hunger struck.
"Aren't you hungry?"
I inquired of Devu, who was writing something on the window glass.
"I don't want to, Nandu..."
"I'm asking because I'm not sure, aren't you hungry? I am, and there's no avoiding it. Why don't you eat... otherwise, you'll stay up all night crying like a gnat. It's just that you've become so thin, like a reed..."
I took the chance to playfully tease her.
"You're Arnold..."
Devu promptly responded.
"No matter what you say, I'll pull over in front of the nearby hotel. Come and eat with me if you'd rather not draw too much attention..."
It was an opportunity for me to grow closer to Devu, and likewise for her. In an era when girls often hesitated to be alone with someone, it struck me that she had a great deal of trust in me to agree. I believed it was wiser to ensure her safety with her father than to cut her out of my life. Regardless, the gain was mine. If she reunites with her father, I can soar freely once more, like a kite without strings.
To be continued...