MOVING ON

As a young child, I never understood why my parents separated. I do not remember how and when I was informed about the divorce. Today I have vague memories of my father. When the divorce was taking place we moved to my grand-parents home. I know this for a fact but don’t remember it myself. I was only five years old then and my sister was three years old. As my mother was a working woman, we were put in a crèche. My father would come to meet us weekly. My sister and I would wait anxiously for that day. I would learn the poems taught in school and practice dance steps to show him. At times, he would take us along with him to buy dresses or chocolates for us.

I remember the look of annoyance mixed with anger on my mothers face when we showed her the gifts. She would often grumble to herself. I would think that I had done something wrong. So I would sit with my homework and do it quickly to gain her approval. My mother tried her best to keep us in the unknown but I slowly began to understand.

My sister and I were the topic of discussion for the crèche women. Though I was too young to understand what they spoke, I would understand a few words here and there like ‘poor thing where will she go with her two kids’ or the man doesn’t look so devious what must have gone wrong with the marriage.
Then one day it so happened that my father stayed a bit longer.

Usually he would leave at sharp four p.m. My sister was showing him her drawing book. A woman at the door interrupted us. That woman was my mother. She had returned from work to pick us up. For a moment, the entire scene froze like a scene from an Indian film. My father made an abrupt move and picked his bag and left. The crèche women stared at my mother move aside as my father passed by. Their eyes did not meet. The crèche is just a five minutes walk from my home. The entire way home, my mother did not speak a word. When we reached home, my mother went to the phone to call my aunt. I remember my grandfather taking us out to the garden.

I was six years old then. My mother sat me down to tell me that I was the elder sister and that I need to understand what was going on. Finally, she told me but it somehow did not affect me. I went back to playing games as usual.
Till date it has not affected me, that is my notion. Now that I am far away from my mother, I feel like I have to face my fears. Earlier I would suppress my doubts because I did not want to upset my mother. But today 24 hours away from home, I feel I can finally seek answers to my questions. I begin with googling my father’s name.