Kartikeya
“Our father hasn’t come home yet. How meaningless our Dashain festival will be in his absence! Don’t you think so, brother?” There is sadness in the little girl’s voice.
Manish hears his flower-sister in silence.
“Don’t worry sister, he will reach very soon,” he assures his little sister even as his eyes water to the brim. He knows well that their father is not going to come home.
The prospect of meeting her father makes the girl happy. She runs out of the house and absorbs herself in games.
“My sister is really obsessed about Daddy. Where has he actually gone? What, if he doesn’t come?” Manish thinks, as his eyes vacantly run across the street.
He seeks the face of his father in every passer-by, but in vain. “No, he is nowhere,” he thinks in despair. “Let that man be my father. I will run fast and embrace him,” he dreams, as a stranger approaches him, and the moment he crosses Manish, he is disillusioned.
“As a matter of fact, daddy hasn’t come home for many years. Why doesn’t Mamma tell me where he really has gone? Anyhow, I will get the answer today.”
He hurries back to his home and prepares to enter. But his mother’s voice inside makes him stand. ‘Who could Mamma be speaking with?’ he wonders. As he peeps from the small crack on the side of the door, she sees his mother speaking to his father’s photograph. He listens with interest.
“How come you can forget these lovely kids for such a long time? You may be happy with another wife, but doesn’t the love of your children strike you? How will I answer if they ask about your whereabouts?”
Manish gets his answer. A bitter sense of hatred for his father fills him. His mother’s pathos moves his tender heart. He rushes in with a tremendous speed and throws himself in his mother’s arms like a whirlwind. The mother and the son share the saddest moment of their lives.
“Mamma, don’t weep for God’s sake. See! I am growing fast. I will bring you plenty of happiness.” There is seriousness in this promising voice.
“My son! My sweet son!”
He sobs for a long time in his mother’s lap, as she strokes his hair.
“Honey, forgive me! I will not be able to afford new clothes this Dashain.”
“Why do you worry, Mamma! My teacher says, putting Tika and getting the blessing of the parents and seniors is the best way of celebrating Dashain. Put us Tika and Dashain will be over. What has clothes to do with it?” There is maturity in his voice.
The mother gets delighted to hear this from her loving son. She had not even imagined that her son had grown enough to share her sorrows. She stares at him for a moment and pulls him close to her, repeatedly kissing his tender forehead.
In his mother’s embrace, Dashain has a different meaning for Manish. He thinks he can forgo anything on earth for his mother’s true love.
[Kartikeya is a highly-acclaimed author of children’s literature in Nepal. Author of popular collections like Piriri’s Patriotism, Tale of Master Pumpkin and The Flying Duster, several of his stories have been translated into English.]