I noticed it only on a cold windy afternoon during January. Sitting by the window of the living room, I watched the rain fall torrentially down my ground floor window. I had left the window open just to listen to the raindrops ploughing the soil and feel the biting cold. A robin, wet from the torrent, sat in a corner, shaking its feathers to dry itself up, once a while.
The torrent outside could only vaguely match up to the tempest going within me....
I had just lost Papa!
Sitting inside the cold room in Jalandhar, I was posed with the biggest question of my life: why did Papa have to leave! I had requested him to wait, wait until I earn enough to offer the best of treatments and the best of comforts.
Far away in the small hilly village of Tiloiya, in the borders of Assam, I had left my Papa and Ma to take care of themselves and I had taken the bus to the city and to this faraway land, to earn money, fame and a credential. I was out to prove to all my extended family members that I would prove to be The Caregiver of my parents, what if they had no son, what if I was the youngest of the five sisters, what if they had wished for a son while I was born!
I noticed the Robin again. It looked at me with a tilted head. I suddenly had goose pumps all over my body, why, I had no clue! As I shut the window to return to the cosy bed room, I could not help but look at the Robin again and again.
Next morning, I woke up startled from a dream; I could see Papa looking for me through the window of the living room. I brushed away the thought, only because I was still angry and hurt. My Papa had hurt me! I could not come into terms that he gave me no chance to fulfil my desire to offer him some kind of treatment for his lungs ailment. He had to be so conceited to leave me!
I invited the chilled gush of wind to fill me, only to quench my anger. The more the wind hurt, the more I felt a brutal contentment. I wanted a punishment, harsher, much harsh than this!
The Robin returned during the afternoon. It was the only time I smiled. The day was sunny and so was my mood. The Robin whistled a soft tune as if to call me by my name.
I had not visited my village after Papa’s demise. I did not want to. I could not see the triumphant Papa with those floral decorations on him and my Ma helplessly mourning over him. No, I could not be such a loser!
Papa arrived in my dreams that night, again, smiling and teasing me that I am the most stubborn and spoilt among his girls. And then he called me by my name just as the Robin had whistled that afternoon, in a sing song tone.
The college was closed for the winter so I could spend the entire day alone: oh! How I loved it! I did not want any company. The only company during the afternoons was the Robin by the window sill while I read pages from some books and occasionally looked at the Robin.
I sometimes wandered whether the Robin was waiting for its mate. I wandered why it was alone, just like me! And I wandered why it had to sit during that entire one hour by the window, while I read a book, before going off to have a nap. I had never seen any bird seated so calmly and continuously.
I would often place some rice grains and the Robin would take but one grain from it and the rest were often left behind, scornfully.
I started believing that the Robin was pretty much like me. As arrogant, as stubborn as I was!
That particular dawn I had a strange dream that my father was showering grains of rice all over me. He then picked up but one grain and disappeared.
My sleep was broken by the loud ring of the antique telephone. It was my eldest sister on the other side. She informed me that they were performing the 12th day rites for the peace of my Papa’s departed soul. She also said that although I did not seemingly bother, she thought it was her duty to inform me. Her scornful remark cut through my heart and I found an immense pleasure in the hurt! I had now graduated to another level of punishment for myself! I deserved worse!
I did not perform any rite on my part at my quarters. That afternoon, I waited for the Robin but it did not arrive. I waited for the entire afternoon, until the dusk but in vain.
My Papa no more arrived in my dreams after that day.
All the afternoons during that cold long winter vacation, I would wait, stand, sit by the window, also look everywhere in my garden but the Robin never turned up. Never again.
I believe my Robin must have soared high above in the skies in search of light. My rose garden and my grain of rice did not allure my Robin anymore.
Till we meet again, my Robin, May God Bless You!
Photograph: from internet
