Cycle

There was silence everywhere. Nothing could be heard except for the breath of the announcer on the mike. Everyone's eyes were on me. Right from the audience to the spotlight, all of them followed me as I walked down the aisle. I walked up on the stage. The man handed over my award in my hands and gave me a proud smile. I bowed down to touch his feet, and as I did, he moved his hands gently over my head and said, “Keep doing this ahead in your life, proud of your beta.” The touch of his hand; it felt familiar.

I looked at the audience. It felt so easy to look right in their eyes and say what I wanted to say. “I am speechless. I truly am. This is something I never expected would happen. I started my NGO with the mere intention of helping the people in my country, and that was the only plan. It is because of all those who have been along with me throughout; in all the good and bad times, because of those lovely smiles on the faces of the people we helped and because of those wishes that I was blessed with on the day I started with this NGO, that I am standing here today and am able to help people. But I don’t think I am ready to accept this award today. Because I am not done with my work yet. There are many such people in this world who still need hope and help. And I can’t let them down. So, I would really like it if all of you sitting here would support me in this aim of mine - To make others happy in whatever ways we can. Only then shall I be able to say that I have achieved my dream. So, are you with me?” What else could have been a better response? Everyone stood up and applauded with a big ‘Yes’ echoing throughout the auditorium.

All the way back my home, I kept thinking about the blessings the man gave me while giving me the award. I knew where I had felt that before. It was Appa. I still remember the day I told him about my decision of starting an NGO. He had said to me, “Whatever you have to go ahead in your life, it’s totally your decision. All the consequences are yours as well. But remember, I will always be there to support you, no matter what happens. Okay?” And he had patted on my head. That was the last time I had felt him. That was the last time I had felt the affection of a family. God, I missed him! I missed that house. Of course, how can I not miss that place? It wasn’t just a place; it was my whole childhood.

I came back home and sat down at my desk. I always loved to write before I went to bed. It wasn’t like I maintained a journal or personal diary or something. I just liked to write down what came to my mind. And every single night, without fail, there was something that I had going on in my mind that I wanted to write. My thoughts just got a way out of my head through these words I suppose. I opened my book and even before I opened my pen, words started to flow out from my brain.

‘I am back from my award ceremony and I really don’t know how to describe what I am feeling right now. I don’t even know if I really deserve this award. I am not doing anything great right? I mean I am just returning something back to society, nothing else. That’s something that everyone must do, at least once in their life. That’s what Appa used to say. Appa! I still cannot believe it’s been five years since I have seen his face. Even today, while I was looking at the audience, I could see Appa in the crowd. He was trying to whistle, which he obviously wasn’t able to. He had never been able to whistle, although I had always wanted him to.’ I giggle when I wrote this. I don’t know why though; I mean many people cannot whistle. But Appa, he made such funny faces when he failed at whistling. I giggle again. He failed at whistling, but not at making me laugh; never.

‘Appa. Now that I think of it, I really do not have any words to describe him at all. I mean how can you describe a normal Indian man with a simple mustache, regular pair of cotton shirt and pants on and rectangular glasses? Wait, did I just describe him? Anyways, that’s how he was from the day I can remember. He never wanted to change his appearance. And I am so glad he never did. Because he is like the person you can easily picture in your head. And that’s how I would like him to be, simple.

I have such a lot of memories with him. He is what I would call the sun of my childhood solar system. My childhood revolved only and only around him.

I remember like this one incident; I was sleeping soundly at night. At that time there were only two of us in the house. All the lights were off and it was all dark outside. Appa was sleeping in his room while I was sleeping in mine. Suddenly I heard the rustle of leaves outside my room. There was cold breeze outside and I started feeling a weird kind of chill. I suddenly woke up and started crying. As I said, there were only two of us in the house. So, my scream or cry or whatever you might call a loud and squeaky voice echoed all around the house. I cried louder expecting Appa to come and put me back to sleep again. But he didn’t come. I suddenly jumped out of my bed and ran towards Appa’s room. He was sitting there on his bed, his eyes fixed in the direction of the door. I ran towards him, climbed up in the bed and sat on his lap. I pushed my head between his arms while he hugged me lovingly. I started sobbing even more. He tried to hush me but it didn’t work; I didn’t stop crying. “What’s the matter Sanjana? I am here now. You are with me. Why are you still crying? What happened?”

“Nothing.” My voice was still not clear I guess, because of all the crying I had done for the past five minutes. “Why didn’t you come to my room? Were you not able to hear me? I thought my cry was pretty loud, wasn’t it? Why didn’t you come? I trusted you. You are a cheater Appa.”

“Hush Sanju, hush.” I was breathing very heavily right now. I couldn’t believe he had done this to me. This was the man I trusted the most on this earth and he didn’t come to my rescue!

“See, even if I didn’t come to save you, you found your way to me, right?” How could he be so calm? I definitely couldn’t understand anything at that time. He continued, “It would have been easy for me to come to you, but I didn’t. I didn’t come for your help today, but it doesn’t mean I wasn’t there for you. You were crying in your room with fear. You were so terrified. And look, now you came here to my room fighting all your fears just to reach me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… I did that… But what do you want to say Appa?”

“Just that every time you are afraid of something or facing a problem, keep your fears and doubts aside and walk on the right path. It will bring you to the solution and you will stop crying, just like you have now.” He gave me a smile. The smile of assurance that whatever the problems may be, he would always be a part of the solution.’

I stop writing again. Writing about Appa brings back many memories. I go to the washroom, splash some water on my face, come back and start writing again. I feel like calling him, again. But I don’t want to. I stop myself every time I have this feeling. I always avoided calling him, because, how can I?

‘Appa. My only friend as a child. My school had a majority of boys as students. There were not many girls there. The boys were always busy doing their own work - teasing, stealing tiffin, doing mischiefs - so I really never got along with them. So Appa was my only friend; my best friend. I have shared each and every secret of mine with him. I remember telling him once about how I liked a boy from my school.’ I burst into laughter as I wrote this. My first crush.

‘He gave me such a funny, teasing look. He had a childish expression in his eyes at that time, I still remember. I didn’t feel weird while telling him about the boy. Appa never made me feel that way. Telling him something was the easiest thing to do. Yes, it was easy back then; when I could share things with Appa.

My childhood was filled with songs and stories and games and fun and rides and walks and… Appa! We used to sing songs together every day. It’s because of him that I got into the habit of listening to classical songs. He used to tell me stories and typical ‘Dad Tales’ that every father likes to tell his child.

He was just like all of them all around the globe. Aren’t all fathers like him? Yes, Appa was just like all of them - all the fathers in this world. But different for one sure thing. He wasn’t just my father. He was a father to many more. I wasn’t his real daughter. He had brought me home for the first time when he found me at an orphanage that couldn’t afford my expenses as it already had many children. He never really did adopt me legally, but yes, I still am still his daughter. I once asked him, “Why do I have so many brothers and sisters?” To this, he replied, “Because we were all supposed to be a family.”

Everything was so going on so well. Until one day, I got a phone call. I was busy with my NGO work as I had just started it and there was a lot of work to be done. As soon as the call ended, I ran back to my house. I saw everyone was sitting together, crying. I knew the reason. Our happy family had just lost its only support system. Appa was no more.’ Tears started rolling down my cheeks and it was a signal that I should stop writing now.

I sleep on my bed, still weeping. I still remember that day when Appa had died crystal clear. After all the rituals were done, I went into Appa’s room. I still felt him there. I sat on his bed and took his pillow just to cuddle it like I cuddled Appa. As I picked up the pillow, I saw a letter under it. I opened it and started reading it. It started from ‘Dear Sanjana’ and ended with ‘Yours Appa.’ The lines in between mattered a lot. This letter was his way of telling me the truth, something that he had always concealed. I was not his real daughter. I was not his relative by blood. He had adopted me. That’s when I came to know about the whole story. That’s when the picture really got clear. That’s when I decided to continue the work that he had started ahead in my life. And that’s when the aim of my life became clear: to provide homes and families to children who don’t have them. All this that I am doing today is not just for a social cause or for the children; it is mostly for Appa - my friend, my father, my world.

Appa had taught me many things with the cycle learning technique. You know how fathers teach us to ride a cycle. They give us support at first and then without even telling us they let us go on our own until we finally understand that we have done it. Appa didn’t actually teach me to ride a cycle, but he taught me to not only ride but to also enjoy the cycle of life. To help others and find a way through every single problem. To be selfless. To be like him - a Father to all.