Daddy's Little Girl

“Sona put on your trousers,” Kirti said.

Ten-year-old Sona smiled at her mother, threw her legging aside and came out in her underpants.

“Sona! You don’t come out of the bathroom this way. You need to wear all your clothes there itself,” Kirti implored.

Sona put both her hands to her ears, not in the mood to listen.

“Please, dear. You will need to wear these even if you don’t want to. That is the proper way.”

Sona flapped her hand and uttered some gibberish. She sat down on the bed and tilted her head to the other side.

“Kirti, how much longer will Sona take? The guests are waiting.” Her husband called out from the hall.

“Sona. Papa is calling. He will get angry when he sees you like this,” she coaxed.

Sona didn’t budge.

Kirti’s husband entered the room. He first looked at Kirti, who looked exhausted with Sona’s trousers in her hands and then at Sona, who flashed her teeth at him from the other corner. That was enough for him to understand.

He took the trousers from his wife and flapped his right hand at Sona. “Mummy is bad. She bathed Sona when she didn’t want to. Right?”

Sona looked straight into her father’s eyes and flapped her right hand.

“Mummy was in a hurry. All the guests are here. Your grandparents, uncles and aunties. Your classmates with their parents. They have come to meet Sona,” he said gently.

“Aiboaeala.” Sona was excited.

“Yes, everyone is waiting for Sona. Sona will blow candles with her mom and dad and cut the cake. Everyone will then sing for Sona. Sona will like it, right?”

She nodded.

“Sona will need to wear her legging for that. If she goes out without wearing one, everyone will call her naughty, and no one will talk to her. Will Sona be fine with that?” He held out the trousers for his daughter.

Sona’s eyes darted to the trousers from her father and back.

No one spoke for five seconds.

Quietly, Sona took the trousers from her father’s outstretched hand. She took time to process the difference between the clothing’s front and rear. Eventually, Sona inserted her legs in the openings, and her hands pulled up the garment in slow motion. She struggled to close the front buttons.

“Here, let Daddy help you,” her father said. Sona smiled.

Kirti’s eyes met those of her husband. An understanding borne out of twelve years of marriage passed between them.

Sona was ready. She looked radiant in her bright pink T-shirt and white trousers. Printed on the centre of the T-shirt, in bold white letters, was the phrase “Daddy’s Little Girl.”

The father offered his hand to the daughter. “Let’s go, dear,” he said.

Sona gently took his hand and walked with him to the other side, where Kirti stood. She held out the other free hand to Kirti. ‘Let’s go,’ she seemed to say.

‘Daddy’s Little Girl’ went out hand in hand with her adopted parents to celebrate. The mentally challenged child had finally found a loving home.