Tuesday, 30 November 2010

Me Naaz Speaking


I am a three years old girl, Naaz.  My elder sister Nisha is in class one just three years older to me.   In the morning, I get up when my mother wakes up me.  I brush my teeth and mother serves me sometimes cornflake or at times bread and milk.  According to duty of my father sometimes he stays at night or in morning and sometimes goes away. 
When my father happens to be on duty in the morning, my mother would prepare food and leave for her school at 9.30AM to brighten the future of other children, leaving her own children at home. Sometimes, she would entrust me to the neighbouring aunties giving a spare key of room, if my father happens to return at about 10 or 11 am in the morning.  When my father would come, he would call me and we would enter into our room.  He would then prepare the rest of the food as on that day she would not prepare all food items. 
On other day, if my father would not come in the morning, I would be with my aunt’s house and wait till 12.30 or 1 Pm.  At that time, my sister Nisha would come and we would enter  our room.  We would bring food and eat on our own.  Then some cartoon shows or some indoor games or sleeping.  My mother would return at 4.30 pm. 
I would sometimes quarrel with my sister for some trivial matters.  I would hanker for her drawing, or some bright things inside her school bag.  At times I would take away her eraser, pen or pencil for fascination.  She would come rushing to me and beat me.  I would cry and stop on my own.  At that time, I would recall my mother or father as on other day in their presence on of them would rush to me and cajole me to stop.  Father would promise me to bring all those things or sometimes he would take me to the market and buy some toffee.  Or he would chide my sister to make me happy. 
Sometimes, mother would hide me inside her skirt and wipe my tears in love.  However, not always I would get all these things. 
At night I would search my father if he happens to be on night shift.  Sometimes, my father would enter when my mother leaves for her school.  My father would love me, change my clothes, bathes me and my sister.  He loves us very much.
I would talk with my father and mother as they happen to call me to the fixed number.  This is a solace and I thank the inventor of cell phone. “At least the distance does not pain.” I would think. 
But when my mother leaves me alone, I would miss my father much.  And the reward of missing is not the presence of my father but more loneliness.  Auntie would play with me for some time.  At times, other children of my age would come and we would play. 
Sometimes, uncle would come to stare me.  Some time aunties would stare.  I would understand their lack of love but then I have nothing to do.  I would sometimes, see cartoon when uncle happen to see his favourite programs.  He would change silently and I would cry.  Auntie would rush to me and take away me to the next room.  She would sometimes, give me some toffees or some mixtures or an old doll to stop my crying. 
Day would pass and not very often I would see both of my parents. Sometimes, we would go to the market to buy some dress materials or dolls for me and my sister. 
At times, my grandparents would come.  I would play with them and get a lot of love and joy.  Then they would leave with a promise to return at some other time. 
One morning, mother was in school and NIsha had gone to school.  My father was with me.  Suddenly, he received a phone call and he became ready to go out.  He looked for neighbors but found no one.  He locked me inside and asked me to watch television and told, he would come back within an hour.  “Don’t touch any electrical appliances,” He said and left. 
“God what is my fault?” I asked.
But there was no one to answer and watching a cartoon program I slept on the sofa. It was repeated knocks on the door broke my sleep.  “Oh God, even sound sleep is not in my fate.”  I sighed and my father embraced me.   

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thank you for your comment. This will go a long way in encouraging this writer. Thanks for your time and patience.

STOP PLAGIARISM