© 2019 Seema Jha. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Inspiration might have been taken from life.

Published by AuthorHouse  03/04/2019

ISBN: 978-1-7283-8480-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-8479-5 (e)

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Dedicated to my parents,

Prof Dr Surya Kant Mishra and

Mrs Shail Bala Mishra

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks to my son Suyash Jha,

my late father, Professor Surya Kant Mishra,

my late mother, Mrs Shail Bala Mishra,

my late father-in-law, Professor Shankar Kumar Jha,

my mother-in-law, Mrs Durga Jha,

my sister, Sushma Jha,

her late husband, Prabhakar Jha,

my brother, Sunil Mishra,

his wife, Ranjana Mishra,

my brother, Anil Mishra,

his wife, Priyanka Mishra, and

my sisters-in-law, Anu, Rupamji and Poonam Didi,

Hiraji, Lal and Mohanjee, my brothers-in-law for their encouragement.

A special thanks to my lovely neighbour Sara Whitby for typing my

entire manuscript.

How can I not mention my neighbour, Sara’s husband, Bob Baker for his

constant encouragement.

Last but not least my husband, Dr Mithilesh Kumar Jha.

CHAPTER 1

She seems to me the loveliest baby in the whole world. Does every mother feel this way, I wonder, about their child or is it just me, I don’t quite know, Cutie looked at her husband Om with a tiny, tired smile. She knew Om was not the least bit disappointed she had given birth to a girl child. In fact he had said often enough that he wanted a daughter. Om had a rather smug look on his face which made her smile again. His contribution in bringing her daughter into existence had been a thousand times less than hers, as was true of every man and woman. Yet he appeared self-satisfied, almost as if it was not she but he himself who had carried the baby in his womb for nine months and given birth enduring all the pain in the end and the morning sickness in the beginning.

Every mother does feel this way. But in their case it is merely a perception, not the truth. Whereas in our case it is a fact that nobody can deny. She is the most beautiful, most adorable baby in the whole world. I tell a lie. In the whole universe, Om grinned. Cutie began to think of the endless possibilities a new life could start into motion at a later date. Her daughter might be an IT consultant, an engineer, doctor or maybe a fashion designer. She might be a police officer rescuing girls from red light areas, girls who had been forced to get into that sort of thing. India had had a woman Prime Minister. She might become the second one. Maybe that was too great a stretch of the imagination but if a girl did not dream, she would never get where she wanted to. Her eyes closed, her little baby seemed to be doing just that, dreaming.

You mean to say she will be like Sushmita Sen, Miss Universe. I really doubt that. For one thing I am against beauty contests. Beauty should not be assessed or gauged. I know that these beauty contests also try to judge things other than looks and figure but basically I don’t like it. If indeed there has to be a contest it should be for inner beauty. If you have done charity all over the world, you will be deemed the most beautiful for it reflects how lovely you are inside. I, for one will forbid my daughter to go into any competition of this sort. How we look is not entirely in our hands. Exercise and sensible eating are in our control but as to features they are God given, inherited by our parents. Why should someone be given a gift for something that came naturally to them. It makes we lesser mortals feel quite awful about ourselves. At least, that is what I believe, Cutie spoke. There was no expression on Om’s face. It was possible he agreed with her. Or it could be that the changed circumstances of their life had made him both happy and silent. She fleetingly wondered if he might have wanted a son. She didn’t really think so. He had more than once said he wanted a daughter just like her. Whenever they had gone to a shop in her pregnancy, she had observed him only checking out the girls’ dresses while they were window shopping.

I agree. But surely we should talk of this when the time arrives. And let me tell you this, lovely babies don’t always grow up to be lovely girls. Sometimes they can become quite ordinary. Granted, for us, she will be a princess but to others she will be a plain girl. Might be. I know I’m contradicting what I said earlier but you cannot always be too sure of the future. One thing I know, however. Unlike other parents, I won’t push her into this or that field. That will be entirely her decision based on what interests her and what she is most suited to. If she decides to be a hairdresser or a beautician, I will support her. She has to earn an honest living. No job is worse than another. Correct me if I’m wrong but that’s how I feel, Om responded. Cutie thought of the sweets her mother-in-law was preparing for her. Cutie liked her mother-in-law. She called her Ma and felt an enormous affection for her. Fortunately it was reciprocated by Ma. Cutie thought of how she had asked Ma and Papa, her mother-in-law and father-in-law respectively to live with them on a permanent basis but they had declined. They had asked her not to feel offended but that they liked the independence of being in their own home. It was a colony of retired people they lived in and had managed matters so that an ambulance was always present there to take to hospital anyone who had the need.

If I’m totally honest, I would want my daughter to become an engineer. An uncle of mine is and I like his life style. But as you very rightly said, we’ll never push her. Let her decide, Cutie was feeling a bit weak. She took a deep breath. She found herself wondering if she would ever be brave enough to have another child. Her pregnancy had started with morning sickness which she had hated, although a part of her had been excited she was pregnant. There had been complications in her pregnancy but now it was finally over.

Dolly, we’ll call her Dolly, Om smiled.

CHAPTER 2

My child resembles her dad. Yours is more like you, Rita spoke. Cutie smiled at Rita gently. She was glad that she and Rita got on so well. Rita had a habit of speaking her mind and would sometimes come across as being rather terse. But Cutie knew Rita meant no harm. Deep down she was not a bad person. Anyway the comment she had made was a very normal one. Most women were fond of guessing who a child would grow up to look like, the dad or the mum.

I think you are right. She does have Om’s nose though. It is difficult to tell really at this age. It does appear as though Julie’s facial features are a bit like Som’s. You are right. Anyway, I’m glad we both got married in the same family. Granted, we don’t live together but my husband’s brother is important to me and so is his wife, you. I suppose we would have survived even if relations between the two of us had been strained but it is good they aren’t. You can give your opinion if you so desire, Cutie gazed fondly at her daughter Dolly. Om had named her Dolly but it was his habit to call her not Dolly, but Doll. Cutie had turned on the telly and Dolly and Julie were dancing as they watched the dances on TV. Dolly’s hair had become very long. She had it loose and was seemingly very proud of it. As she danced, she moved her long hair from one side to another. Now and again she would go to the mirror and look at herself.

I agree whole heartedly. It is my view that any unpleasant relationship leaves a bad taste in the mouth. I mean, you do brood over it and make yourself miserable. Be it a brother or sister, father or son or any other such bond. I strongly believe that relationships formed after marriage are equally important. But let’s not congratulate ourselves on our friendship. We may rouse an evil eye. Pardon me for being superstitious. Sometimes I can be rather silly, Rita finished with a sigh. Cutie looked at her fondly. She and Rita did get on like a house on fire. But she knew what Rita meant. She gazed silently at the two children not quite knowing what to say.

CHAPTER 3

Why am I not in this picture, Dolly screamed. Cutie was both annoyed and amused. She had been looking at her wedding photographs and Dolly had become entirely perturbed that she was nowhere to be seen in them. She couldn’t explain to Dolly that at the time she didn’t exist. Dolly wouldn’t understand. Cutie put her wedding album back to its place. There was naught to be achieved by ruffling Dolly’s feathers. She would have to procrastinate the pleasure of seeing herself as a bride in photographs until Dolly grew up enough to be aware of the fact that existence was a word.

Mummy is thirsty. Make a cup of tea for her, Cutie spoke. It was a ruse to distract Dolly. It worked. Dolly became busy with her little tea set and Cutie heaved a sigh of relief. How time flew. She could remember herself as a child doing the same thing that Dolly was. She looked at the bald doll Dolly had set aside in her enthusiasm to produce imaginary tea. Time did have a tendency to fly. Dolly was a child, she would grow up and become a teenager, then even older. She would hopefully get a job, get married and leave home. It would be a sad day indeed when Dolly left for her in-laws’ place.

CHAPTER 4

Daddy will send me to school, Dolly proudly announced to her aunt, Rita. Rita couldn’t help smiling at Dolly’s pleased expression. To Dolly, school was a yet unknown entity and she had no doubt linked it in her little mind with a lot of fun. Rita thought of her own school days. Her mother had told her that as a child, she had often cried refusing to go to school. Maybe it would be different for Dolly. She would make lots of little friends and would probably enjoy that.

I’ll go to school too, Julie said at the top of her voice. She clearly didn’t want to be left out. She had no doubt resented the fact that her mother had briefly hugged Dolly. She tried her best to attract her attention. Rita understood Julie’s jealousy and kissed her lovingly. Cutie felt happy for no reason at all. Then again, maybe she did have aspects in her life to be chuffed about. Her marriage with Om was a happy one. She had a pretty daughter. She had given up her job of a beautician for a while but would begin it when Dolly grew up. Life was looking good.

CHAPTER 5

What did you do, stupid, Cutie spoke as Dolly accidentally broke a tea cup. The word was out before she could stop it. Dolly scowled. She appeared not pleased at all. She put her doll aside and narrowed her eyes. Cutie couldn’t help smiling at her daughter’s angry face.

No-one in the world is stupid, Dolly responded. She sounded quite cross. She went to the balcony and picked up a bald doll. Soon she was distracted.

Is that so, Cutie said as she picked up the broken pieces of the tea cup. She noticed Dolly had moved to the balcony. She followed Dolly and picked up dry clothes bringing them inside.

Dolly, doll, where are you, Om said. Om was the only one who called her doll. Dolly seemed to like that. She came running to her dad who picked her up in his arms.

What are you doing stupid, Dolly said to her mum. Cutie came out of the kitchen and gazed at her little daughter. No-one in the world is stupid, Cutie said and waited quietly for Dolly’s response.

Some people can be stupid, Dolly spoke and giggled.

CHAPTER 6

You have to stop feeling guilty for what happened. It was simply a tragedy. Destiny. It wasn’t your fault. Neither was it mine, Cutie spoke. Om did not appear reassured. Cutie wondered how to console Om. She herself was shaken to the core. She was reminded of Rita’s words. Their good relationship would rouse an evil eye. It seemed to her that that was exactly what had happened.

Be that as it may, this feeling will last a lifetime. I will never be able to look either Rita or Som in the eye any more and I doubt if they’ll ever want to see us again. And frankly, I don’t blame them. In their shoes, I would do the same perhaps. Death is a strange thing. Logic takes a back seat. I cannot however turn back the clock. I think my relationship with my brother and his wife is history. In future, I see no hope for it. None whatsoever, Om responded. Cutie knew that Om was right. Som and Rita would never forgive them even though technically it was not their error. As Om had said, it was the kind of pain which lasted forever. Julie’s death could never be forgotten.

CHAPTER 7

"I don’t quite know what I believe if I’m honest. Whether there is indeed such a thing as destiny or there isn’t. Is it possible that looking back we declare that whatever happened was fate, it occurred because it had to. It was written. What if we had done something different. Perhaps something else would have happened. But I spoke too hastily. Strike this off from your memory. I had no intention of rubbing salt in your wound. What happened with your brother’s daughter was simply an accident. Maybe it was indeed her destiny. But whatever it might have been, you have no reason to blame yourself. Neither should Som