Hope

I stared at the little black diary. All these years we would find ways to read this, we had all pondered for years over what she would write in it everyday.

She was so secretive of it, she wouldn’t let anyone come near it. Many a times I had seen her smiling to herself, or crying while filling those pages. This was truly her greatest treasures.

“Dadi I don’t know if you should give this”, I said still looking at the diary.

She closed my hand with the diary in it and said “You should have this, only you will come to respect it, I know.” She said smiling at me. Now go, I am very sleepy, it’s been a long long day.” She said as she lay down. “Put this blanket on me, will you beta?”

“Yes Dadi, good night”, I said as I put the blanket on her, switched off the lights walked away with the most precious thing in my hand.

“Why did she give it to me?” I thought feeling her diary in my hands.

As much as I wanted to read it, I wanted to put it away safely for I did not want to invade her privacy. “But she gave it you Simi.” I thought. Probably there was something in it she wanted you to know. With my heart racing I ran into my room before anybody else could see me. I closed the door behind me and sat down to read. As I turned the page it read

Simi giggled to herself reading the diary. She couldn’t fathom the fact that her grandmother was so anxious of how Dadaji looked. She flipped the pages to where she finally got married.

“She hadn’t seen Dadaji at all before her wedding”, Simi thought to herself while reading. How weird?

She read on. Same date different time.

Simi smiled to herself and she read further.

Simi flipped the page.

SImi’s smile grew wider. She was actually reading about her grandparents. How her grandmother fell in love with her dada and it was too cute she thought. She now flipped the pages to the date, all of them especially her grandmother dreaded all her life.

Simi just stared at the page, she could see blotches here and there on the page. It looked like her grandmother had cried immensely while writing this.

All these years everyone told her, “he will never come back. It has been so many years.” She always hushed them and then cried like a baby. She would always say “I know he is alive, my heart will know the day he dies.”

As impossible as it seemed, Simi always believed her Dadi from the start. There was something in her eyes that was so convincing, Simi too for her Dadi’s sake believed that one day he would come back.

She remembered as a child, her mother used to tell her that after a while everyone started rendering her beeji as mad.

“Oh Uma, the death of her husband, has done this to her.” One Aunty was heard saying when her Dadi had walked in, in a shimmery gold and red saree into a pooja a few years after her husband had dissapeared.

“I don’t know what to do”, her mother in law had said. We have yelled her left and right. Sat down with her and consoled her for hours to make her believe he is dead. He was my son, but I can’t run away from the truth but this girl refuses to believe anyone. How I also wish he was alive, but you tell me if he was, he would have come back by now.” She had said hiding her face in her pallu. “I know she has gone mad. She had lost it the day she heard of his death.”

 For years people made fun of her, jeered at her, but her beeji never lost faith. She would dutifully do karva chauth every year. She would pray for him every morning. Put on her bindi everyday. Every fast she did for him, every prayer she said was a hope that he would come back, it just made her conviction even stronger.

As I read on it said

Simi had read fairy tales as a kid. So many love stories. Yet there was one right in her home that touched her the most, every time her Dadi would cry trying to convince someone of him. She would come running to her beejis aid “please stop it, don’t keep saying it. If she says he is alive, he is”, Simi would say hugging her Dadi.

There has to be some justice to her love, her patience, her wait. I used to ask God everyday. Don’t torture her like this, if he is there please bring him back.

Little did I know against all odds my prayers, more than mine her prayers would be answered soon.

There was an open firing in the border a few days back, our soldiers had walked into the other side to bring back an injured soldier where they stumbled upon a hut. They found an old man chained inside.

I still remember the day the phone rang. We were all sitting by the porch. Dadi was sitting in a corner knitting a sweater. Shortly after the phone rang, my father came running into the porch.

He was panting, his face was red. I could read excitement and shock all over his face. He turned towards Dadi fell on her feet and cried like a baby.

After some ten minutes, he finally gathered himself together. By this time all of us gathered around him worried.

“Ma, I am sorry, I am so sorry. Please forgive me Ma”, he said holding her feet.

Beeji looked at him perplexed “what happened?” she asked holding his hands.

“All these years, nobody believed you, he is alive Ma. My father is alive.” My father said as he broke down again.

Dadi’s s eyes widened. Tears came streaming down her face. As she tried to wipe them, she folded her hands in prayer to God and started to cry.

I couldn’t contain myself any longer I went and hugged her. She cried and cried and cried. I just held her and let her cry. It had been 55 years. 55 long years my Dadi had relentlessly waited for him to come back, day and night. 55 years she spent convincing everyone around her he is still alive. Such is the power of love, only her heart knew he was still alive.

“How?” My mother asked.

“They found him on the other side. Chained in a hut”, My father said.

“Chained?” Dadi gasped.

“Dadi forget about all that, he is coming home!” I said in excitement.

“Yes they are bringing him. I have to go the headquarters to receive him.” My father said as he got up to go.

“I will come with you”, Dadi said getting up.

“No Ma, you can’t go. You are not well, please stay. I will get him.” My father said pressing her hand.

Dadi wasn’t well for a long time. Her heart was very weak and she had 90% blockage. She had become very frail off late the doctor had said last week “It’s like she has no life left in her anymore. Her heart is getting weaker by the day. Sometimes I feel like she is not letting go. She is still holding onto something. Last time I said she won’t last six months, now it’s been a year, I am surprised with her heart so weak. God knows why God is not letting her go peacefully.”

Now I knew why, but you took so long I said looking up as if talking to God, but thank God you kept her alive till this day. I thought as I tried wiping a tear.

Dadi walked into the kitchen with her walker and sat by the stool.

“Dadi what are you doing here”, I asked. “You should go rest, he will be here in sometime.”

“I will make kheer.” She squeaked like a little girl. For the first time I saw her eyes gleam with excitement.

“Dadi, I will make kheer”, I said.

“No”, she rebelled. “I will, he loved the kheer I used to make.” She said as she smiled to herself.

“Dadi it will take hours, I don’t want you falling sick, not today.” I said.

She looked at me like a little child trying to pacify me into having her way.

“Mom”, I said looking at my mom.

“It’s okay beta. Ma we will all help you, but you make the kheer”, my mom said winking at me.

She smiled at my mother like she never had before.

After we were done with making kheer. I took her up to get changed. She rummaged through her cupboard and took out a bright red saree .

“Dadi, are you going to wear this?” I asked.

“Yes. She said smiling running her hands through the saree. “You know Simi, he had got me this the first time he took me out”, she blushed like little girl when she said it.

I had never seen her this happy, this content. Of course she used to smile and laugh a lot but her eyes were always sad. Today I could see her eyes filled with joy.

She wore her bright red saree, big red bindi, blood red bangles. Dark kohl in her eyes.

Even at 76, Dadi looked so beautiful. She was glowing like a new bride.

“How do I look Simi?” She asked smiling at the mirror.

“Oh Dadi, you look beautiful.” I smiled as I remembered how she looked earlier in the day. I went back to the diary, I had to know how she felt when she saw him in so long.

Simi started to cry as she read the diary. Her Dadi had finally won after years, she finally made everyone believe that she wasn’t mad, she wasn’t crazy. She looked around at the wall clock, it was almost five. Time had just flown by Simi thought reading her Dadi’s diary.

Suddenly she heard a scream. It was her mother.

“Ma”, her mother shouted.

Simi ran up to her Dadi’s room, half knowing what would have happened.

As she stopped by her Dadi’s room door, she saw her mother crying by her Dadi’s feet.

Simi knew she had gone, her Dadi had gone.

She suddenly realised her Dada wasn’t in the room. She ran to the library next door and opened it, She saw her Dada on the rocker with a book on his chest, the way his body was lying, she realized he too was no more.

“Maa”, she yelled.

Her mother came running “oh god”, she said as she walked in.

“Aman.. Aman..where is your father, Simi?”, she yelled as she sat down down crying.

“Mom don’t cry”, I said sniffing.

“I know it’s horrible but Ma I know..I know they both are happy.” I said still holding onto the diary in my hand. My mother looked at me in bewilderment.

“This is why Beeji was not letting go, she was waiting for him. They have gone Ma..They both have gone but to a happier place where they are…together.”