It was one of those summer vacations. Well the middle of one to be precise so it was not time for the sentimental hellos or goodbyes. There was still ample time to fight and fret. So I was the target for a cousin who fought with me(and I with her) and finally called me the ugly duckling. Fairy tale me felt a whale of pain hit my little heart as I saw myself an ugly duckling. I felt my feet go webbed and felt a flat beak tremble. "No"oooo..... I shouted through my tears and she happy at having made me lose my spirit to stick to the guns, pouted her lips and declared,"Yeah baby you are the ugly duckling".
I ran to my dad, my eternal storehouse of the oddest griefs. He was reading. looked up once, saw my lips tremble the way they did when tears were held tight. He knew my complex styles of handling grief. He just held out his hand and let my tears wet his white shirt.
He pretended he didn't see the tears for he knew I didn't like them seen. He held me there, till I felt another odd grief melt into newer senses.. smelling his shirt where my tears soaked, listening to the way his heart beat against my ear, and finally I said " Accha(means 'dad' in Malayalam) am I an ugly duckling? "
He pretended he didn't see the tears for he knew I didn't like them seen. He held me there, till I felt another odd grief melt into newer senses.. smelling his shirt where my tears soaked, listening to the way his heart beat against my ear, and finally I said " Accha(means 'dad' in Malayalam) am I an ugly duckling? "
He smiled then noticed the serious grief that lay in my eyes and said" You are a beautiful angel" and continued reading .....while I closed my eyes, felt webbed feet dissolve
and dreamt me arrive from heaven.
and dreamt me arrive from heaven.
