Beneath the giant mango tree, her childhood was spent. Playing with her scooter, making mud pan cakes or piggybacking on dad, were some of the things she remembered. Happiest moments of her life, she remembers those as.
When she was three, she got her first kitchen set. Since then, it had been one of her most valuable assets, her paraphernalia to certain illusory yet the tastiest of savories. Her mom used to read out bed time stories to her and her dad would hug her, lying with her until she fell asleep.
Turning five, she got a beautiful train that would run operating on a battery. She would assemble her dolls, her toy dog, her teddy bear, the kitchen set and the train under the mango tree. She would then enact a scene of the train arriving at its ultimate stop, her toys – the guests arriving, and herself cooking them a sumptuous meal. It would be a wonderful story, quite movie-like, and she would happily revel in herself playing the host.
Theirs was a small yet beautiful house. It was surrounded by a garden on both sides, and plants at the front. They would wake up to the mountains visible at the back of their house. Her room had the choicest of toys, few in number, yet most closest to her being. A dog, a teddy bear she loved since she was three month old, a doll her parents gifted on her first birthday, a kitchen set and a duck – a plastic one. Their home was a simple one, like her parents. It exuded a nice vibe, the appearance, the surroundings and they were a happy family, in simpler times. Sundays were not lazy, but bustling with more life than the weekend. They had three meals together. They watched television, they did gardening, slept through the afternoon, and her dad helped with homework and lambasted her if she failed to get the math right. Math was not her favorite subject. She liked English and Science most.
Summer holidays became her favorite two months, her grandparents would visit her. Her grandmother would ensure she ate at least six times a day and her grandfather would recite to her stories of the yore. Sometimes, two of her cousins would arrive too with their parents. When her cousins came, she would love playing hide and seek around the house, and also guests' homecoming. Her cousins were not so accepting of the latter game, but she used to run around them making them concur to play her guests, while she played the host. She loved her cousins, and they adored her. She was the youngest among them, the sensitive and the sweetest. There was a naughty twinkle in her eyes and a pretty smile on her face, always. There were three things she secretly wished. Firstly, her grandparents could be with her always. She hated her grandparents return to their hometown after the summer vacations. She loved them as much as she loved her Mamma and Papa. Secondly, that her cousins Veda and Disha could be her siblings and they could live with her, playing till eternity. Thirdly, she very deeply hoped and longed to get a pet puppy. That, unlike her toy dog would lick her, follow her, play with her and share her room. Such were her happy innocuous yearnings.
She had told her parents about wanting a puppy, but her Mamma was not keen on getting one. Cleanliness, hygiene and tidiness issues like any other mother she had. Papa and Mamma made her understand that when she will be old enough to look after a dog, she could have it. Daddy’s favorite girl made peace, instead bartered for many chocolates. So, she went to her room and played with her toy dog, feigning games of it running and fetching the ball or following her. She was a happy child, happily she dreamt of growing up.
Once school started after summer this year, she was introduced to craft. She found it interesting- making things with paper and sticks. She loved the crafts class, and the teacher was very patient. She used to end up staying fifteen minutes past the class, engrossed in making something novel, every crafts class. But she loved coming back home and exhibiting it to her parents. Her Sundays, now had an extra hour dedicated to her creative proclivity. Her mother would assemble everything she made and keep it on the mantelpiece, or the kitchen, or their bedroom or her grandparents’ room. Their home was brimming with the little girl’s presence. That's what kept her Mamma hinged on her thoughts when she was away from her for the school hours.
For her eighth birthday, she got a bicycle. She loved it. She would tell about it to her grandparents - about how she used to fall while trying to ride it, and how Papa caught her almost always. She was having so much fun. Her parents spent the evenings making her learn riding it. Once, she stopped falling she would keep riding around their house ringing the bell on it. It had a basket in the front, where she would carry her toy dog and doll whenever she cycled round the house.
That summer two days after her grandparents arrived for their summer stay, her parents had to leave to see an ailing relative. Her Mamma told her that a distant uncle was unwell, and that they’d be back till the nightfall. By 8 that night when they didn’t arrive and grandma called Mamma, they said they’d be late to reach, maybe around ten thirty. Her Mamma asked Amma to tuck her in and to read her bed time stories.
Never in the past had she slept without her Mamma reading to her the stories. She hurled defiance at her grandma’s reading it; she was not being finicky, but she experienced an inexplicable feeling in the gut. She was a kid; she didn’t know what it meant. Her grandma pacified her saying Mamma and Papa are on the way and that they will reach in twenty minutes. She looked at the clock, crooning that she will sleep after twenty minutes. But amidst that all, she dozed off. That night she saw her parents in her dreams, her Mamma smiling and Papa coming to throw her in the air like he did when she was a toddler. Her Mamma whispered to her “We love you, we are always with you.” The three of them were hugging happily when she saw tears in her parents’ eyes.
When she woke up, she couldn’t find her grandma beside her. She went out looking for mom and dad. She saw a bevy of people assembled at her house. She called out to her grandma who came rushing. She had been crying.
Bewildered and thoroughly perplexed, she asked her grandma what was happening. Her grandma didn’t say anything but broke down again. Her aunties and uncles were home, she sighted her cousins as well. Something was definitely not well; her Lata mami took her to her room. She demanded to see her parents. Lata aunty and Rajesh uncle said they have flown to a distant land. She started crying loudly, she wanted to see her parents. Grandma came running to console her. Grandma said they had to take a flight in the morning and that they will call when they reach. That couldn’t assuage the feeling inside her. She asked her grandma why she had been crying, why Lata mami was crying. She had no answer. She broke her reticence when she said Mamma Papa will be gone for long, and that they will have to stay with naughty Falak for a long time till then. Falak couldn’t understand a thing, but she knew, they were not going to come back. The movies had acquainted her to such things. She started crying uncontrollably. Amma crying patted her, stroking her hair until she slept off. When she woke up, her grandfather was beside her. She had never seen him that dreary.
She looked at him and started crying again. He took her outside. There were less people at home now. Her grandparents took her to the backyard by the mango tree. She asked them again where her parents were. Amma looked at the sky. She told her how her Mamma loved the sky and used to stare at it during days or nights. She told how her name Falak meant sky.
Too young to have faced such a loss, too callow to understand something so painful, she stared at the sky remembering her dream. The sky became her favorite now. Her nights were spent staring through the window at the dark drape outside sometimes adorned with countless stars, and sometimes just darkness. She knew how the sky was her mother’s favorite; she knew how she was their favorite. She missed them terribly, she wanted to cry but her grandma would keep her engrossed in tales about her parents. She missed her Papa, his hugs, the chocolates he bought her, their hide and seek games, her mother’s night time stories, her kisses, her scolding, his love. She missed them, and she knew they won’t come back.
She started loving the sky. It was so vast yet so calm. It was so blue in the day, and so beautifully dark in the night. Papa and Mamma were in the sky she believed.
“They are in you”, grandma always said.
When she was three, she got her first kitchen set. Since then, it had been one of her most valuable assets, her paraphernalia to certain illusory yet the tastiest of savories. Her mom used to read out bed time stories to her and her dad would hug her, lying with her until she fell asleep.
Turning five, she got a beautiful train that would run operating on a battery. She would assemble her dolls, her toy dog, her teddy bear, the kitchen set and the train under the mango tree. She would then enact a scene of the train arriving at its ultimate stop, her toys – the guests arriving, and herself cooking them a sumptuous meal. It would be a wonderful story, quite movie-like, and she would happily revel in herself playing the host.
Theirs was a small yet beautiful house. It was surrounded by a garden on both sides, and plants at the front. They would wake up to the mountains visible at the back of their house. Her room had the choicest of toys, few in number, yet most closest to her being. A dog, a teddy bear she loved since she was three month old, a doll her parents gifted on her first birthday, a kitchen set and a duck – a plastic one. Their home was a simple one, like her parents. It exuded a nice vibe, the appearance, the surroundings and they were a happy family, in simpler times. Sundays were not lazy, but bustling with more life than the weekend. They had three meals together. They watched television, they did gardening, slept through the afternoon, and her dad helped with homework and lambasted her if she failed to get the math right. Math was not her favorite subject. She liked English and Science most.
Summer holidays became her favorite two months, her grandparents would visit her. Her grandmother would ensure she ate at least six times a day and her grandfather would recite to her stories of the yore. Sometimes, two of her cousins would arrive too with their parents. When her cousins came, she would love playing hide and seek around the house, and also guests' homecoming. Her cousins were not so accepting of the latter game, but she used to run around them making them concur to play her guests, while she played the host. She loved her cousins, and they adored her. She was the youngest among them, the sensitive and the sweetest. There was a naughty twinkle in her eyes and a pretty smile on her face, always. There were three things she secretly wished. Firstly, her grandparents could be with her always. She hated her grandparents return to their hometown after the summer vacations. She loved them as much as she loved her Mamma and Papa. Secondly, that her cousins Veda and Disha could be her siblings and they could live with her, playing till eternity. Thirdly, she very deeply hoped and longed to get a pet puppy. That, unlike her toy dog would lick her, follow her, play with her and share her room. Such were her happy innocuous yearnings.
She had told her parents about wanting a puppy, but her Mamma was not keen on getting one. Cleanliness, hygiene and tidiness issues like any other mother she had. Papa and Mamma made her understand that when she will be old enough to look after a dog, she could have it. Daddy’s favorite girl made peace, instead bartered for many chocolates. So, she went to her room and played with her toy dog, feigning games of it running and fetching the ball or following her. She was a happy child, happily she dreamt of growing up.
Once school started after summer this year, she was introduced to craft. She found it interesting- making things with paper and sticks. She loved the crafts class, and the teacher was very patient. She used to end up staying fifteen minutes past the class, engrossed in making something novel, every crafts class. But she loved coming back home and exhibiting it to her parents. Her Sundays, now had an extra hour dedicated to her creative proclivity. Her mother would assemble everything she made and keep it on the mantelpiece, or the kitchen, or their bedroom or her grandparents’ room. Their home was brimming with the little girl’s presence. That's what kept her Mamma hinged on her thoughts when she was away from her for the school hours.
For her eighth birthday, she got a bicycle. She loved it. She would tell about it to her grandparents - about how she used to fall while trying to ride it, and how Papa caught her almost always. She was having so much fun. Her parents spent the evenings making her learn riding it. Once, she stopped falling she would keep riding around their house ringing the bell on it. It had a basket in the front, where she would carry her toy dog and doll whenever she cycled round the house.
That summer two days after her grandparents arrived for their summer stay, her parents had to leave to see an ailing relative. Her Mamma told her that a distant uncle was unwell, and that they’d be back till the nightfall. By 8 that night when they didn’t arrive and grandma called Mamma, they said they’d be late to reach, maybe around ten thirty. Her Mamma asked Amma to tuck her in and to read her bed time stories.
Never in the past had she slept without her Mamma reading to her the stories. She hurled defiance at her grandma’s reading it; she was not being finicky, but she experienced an inexplicable feeling in the gut. She was a kid; she didn’t know what it meant. Her grandma pacified her saying Mamma and Papa are on the way and that they will reach in twenty minutes. She looked at the clock, crooning that she will sleep after twenty minutes. But amidst that all, she dozed off. That night she saw her parents in her dreams, her Mamma smiling and Papa coming to throw her in the air like he did when she was a toddler. Her Mamma whispered to her “We love you, we are always with you.” The three of them were hugging happily when she saw tears in her parents’ eyes.
When she woke up, she couldn’t find her grandma beside her. She went out looking for mom and dad. She saw a bevy of people assembled at her house. She called out to her grandma who came rushing. She had been crying.
Bewildered and thoroughly perplexed, she asked her grandma what was happening. Her grandma didn’t say anything but broke down again. Her aunties and uncles were home, she sighted her cousins as well. Something was definitely not well; her Lata mami took her to her room. She demanded to see her parents. Lata aunty and Rajesh uncle said they have flown to a distant land. She started crying loudly, she wanted to see her parents. Grandma came running to console her. Grandma said they had to take a flight in the morning and that they will call when they reach. That couldn’t assuage the feeling inside her. She asked her grandma why she had been crying, why Lata mami was crying. She had no answer. She broke her reticence when she said Mamma Papa will be gone for long, and that they will have to stay with naughty Falak for a long time till then. Falak couldn’t understand a thing, but she knew, they were not going to come back. The movies had acquainted her to such things. She started crying uncontrollably. Amma crying patted her, stroking her hair until she slept off. When she woke up, her grandfather was beside her. She had never seen him that dreary.
She looked at him and started crying again. He took her outside. There were less people at home now. Her grandparents took her to the backyard by the mango tree. She asked them again where her parents were. Amma looked at the sky. She told her how her Mamma loved the sky and used to stare at it during days or nights. She told how her name Falak meant sky.
Too young to have faced such a loss, too callow to understand something so painful, she stared at the sky remembering her dream. The sky became her favorite now. Her nights were spent staring through the window at the dark drape outside sometimes adorned with countless stars, and sometimes just darkness. She knew how the sky was her mother’s favorite; she knew how she was their favorite. She missed them terribly, she wanted to cry but her grandma would keep her engrossed in tales about her parents. She missed her Papa, his hugs, the chocolates he bought her, their hide and seek games, her mother’s night time stories, her kisses, her scolding, his love. She missed them, and she knew they won’t come back.
She started loving the sky. It was so vast yet so calm. It was so blue in the day, and so beautifully dark in the night. Papa and Mamma were in the sky she believed.
“They are in you”, grandma always said.
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