Comforter

At the similar august gathering, I chance upon Chhuti again. She wriggles her way to me with her dainty bum and plop-steps and flashes that smile of recognition. Some making of faces and hide-and-seek moments later, she settles down next to me. Demanding my pen and a copy, she starts as if it was just yesterday she met me. "Draw flower."

I obediently do. A marigold and a lotus. From one stem. Yes, strange. She asks, "What flower?"

We are still expected to maintain silence. So I arrow the marigold and write 'You', and arrow the lotus 'Me'. And pronounce in whispers, "You-flower and Me-flower."

She has an expression of a rainbow. Surprise, disbelief, amusement, happiness, savoury, sweet, faith. "Lotus flower no, this?" pointing at Me-flower. I smile. I love children. They are so smartly pure.

She pauses, "No, no. Me-flower. OK, draw ice-cream." And herself drew a tiny orange candy. I mean she drew an ice-lolly which I would love to believe was an orange-candy. And then turned towards me the copy and said, "now you."

I drew a cone. Complete with a rather happy-scoop melting away from one side, a cherry on the top, and a plastic spoon. I gave her the copy back. She saw, slurped, smiled and made a sound of delight which I cannot put to words. She behaved as if the cone was waiting in front of her to be had. Just by herself. Almost as if dutifully, she bent down to dot a strawberry. On satisfactory completion said, "Put on top." Gesturing at where I had placed the cherry. 

Turning the page to where the marigold and lotus grew from one stem into you and me flowers, I realized I may have led her to believe that I could place the strawberry for her on the scoop. On the page, at least!

Tomorrow, people in my world have the luxury of a Saturday-off-day. It makes me sad as I meanwhile would slog on to a tragic equation of 'last-Saturday, working day'. I decide that I can either choose to complain about it and lengthen the pain of it, or, believe in the power of Chhuti's belief, turn to the page, create and be comforted in a happy-holiday, out of none.

 

Hello tomorrow! Let's face each other. Without it being a Chhuti. With Chhuti.