The Little Problem

“Poor girl”

“What do you mean ‘poor girl’? I’ve always thought she was irresponsible, and look, she’s proved it.”

“Oh hush! The child’s here listening.”

“Huh. The child. Exactly. Did she even think of her! She’s ruined her life!”

Little Garima was silently listening to this conversation. She didn’t understand a word of all that was being said by the elders, but she felt that whatever was being said was about her mommy, and from their tone she could make out that the conversation wasn’t at all nice.

She stood by her grandpa’s side timidly clutching the handle of his chair, ready to run. Run away, to her Mommy. BUT WHERE IS SHE! WHY ISN’T SHE SAYING SOMETHING IN RESPONSE TO ALL THESE NASTY THINGS THEY’RE SAYING! THIS IS NOT LIKE HER!

Garima felt she knew her mommy better than any other in this world. And she is only 8 years old.

“Now, let’s think of something for this girl”, Trisha said, continuing with the thought that was bothering her the most, at the moment, “we have to think of where to put her up. Any suggestions?”

And before any one could answer, she hastened, “I know Amit isn’t that bad as Manisha had always told us he is. Nobody can be as selfish as she always made him look. I know he loves his daughter and wants her back in his life.”

“Then why do you think he’s never bothered to find out how she’s been doing all this time?”, asked Karunesh, his was the only face that showed signs of grief.

“Because she didn’t let him, of course!”, came the irritated reply. “I suggest we call him up and tell him about the crisis at hand and ask him if he’d take her back. All is not lost yet, and Garima can still be mended.”

“Why don’t you take her with you?”, suggested Karunesh, cautiously, “She is a lovely girl and can adjust everywhere and with everyone. I would, if I were 15 years younger. I’m too old now to take care of a growing up girl all by myself.”

“Yes, dear, why don’t we?”, chipped in Ranjan, Trisha’s husband, who had not spoken so far. “I think we can take care of her.”

“It’s very easy for you to say that,” cried Trisha in an acrid tone, “you have me as your slave at home, don’t you? As if our own son wasn’t enough to take up my entire day. And now you want to add her to my woes! Of course, how do you care how I manage the entire day with your cranky son! And don’t forget, even if I do agree to take her with me, your mom would not like it.” That settled the matter. Ranjan was silenced, yet again, by her flawless arguments.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll find a comfortable room at my friend’s old age home. I shall call him up and apply for an accommodation. Just see that Garima gets a home.”, said a quiet voice.

Everybody looked at Grandpa, who had his head hung on his chest, hiding his face from everyone’s view. Only Garima could see tears trickling down his long nose onto his lap. Although she hasn’t learnt the word “remorse” yet, but she knew grandpa was feeling bad for her and for her mommy.

“What a fine mess she had made of her life! And what a fine mess she’s put us all in now!”, resumed Trisha, the lone speaker so far.

Garima looked out of the window, not knowing what she was looking for. But she was rewarded by the sight of her mommy beckoning to her from behind the tree just by the road. She quietly slipped out of the door, unnoticed, and ran swiftly to where her mommy was standing, smiling as always, as if waiting for her.

“Mommy I don’t like Aunt Trisha. She is saying horrible things about you. I hate her!”

“Doesn’t matter, dear. Forget what she’s saying- ”

“And those horrid people made grandpa cry!!!”

“Oh dear, have they?”

“She wants to send me to someone I don’t know.”

“And what do YOU want?”

“I want to be with you, mommy. Always”.

The discussions inside didn’t go too far, as Trisha had stopped speaking. They hadn’t been able to arrive at any satisfactory solution yet, to the most pressing problem, Garima.

“Where’s the girl?”, somebody exclaimed, suddenly.

“Indeed! Where is she?”

“There she goes! Out there on the road! But whose hand is she holding? Where is she going?”

Everyone hurried to the window. There was Garima walking away, down the road, looking happy, holding the hand of someone…someone who looked like… wait!

As if in answer to the same unuttered question, they all turned to look at where Manisha lay, covered in a white shroud and a few wreaths. She was lying there, and Trisha thought, like most of the others did, that she saw a hint of a smile on her lips.

Manisha looked like she was sleeping in peace. Almost immediately, another horrifying thought struck her and pulled her back to the window. With a pounding heart, she frantically searched the road outside and her eyes met what she was looking for.

A few passers-by were kneeling, peering at what looked like a small bundle on the road beside the tree. Trisha’s head swam and her feet trembled as she caught the words “that speeding car” that faintly drifted to her ears.