Another day.

For as long as she had known, she had never asked her father anything. That wasn’t to say that she had fended for herself. She’d put herself through college using the scholarship only because such an option existed. Had it not been there, the fees would still have been paid.

Yet, the entire thing had a sense of strangeness about it. Why would anyone be afraid of asking her father for something? She couldn’t remember an occasion when she’d asked him for anything. Not a day had gone without three meals. Not a fever had gone without a visit to the doctor. Every mistake had been rightfully reproached. Every act of ill faith had been pardoned. No birthday had gone without his remembering.

As she walked, she wondered if there had ever been a time when she’d asked dad for anything. Trivial ideas crowded her mind. Birthday wishes, bed time stories, her first motorcycle, her first time in a movie theater, the first time she went camping and the fact that dad came to pick her up when she came back. She couldn’t remember anytime when she’d asked for something that dad didn’t already know she wanted.

She walked faster, sweating a little now. She needed to know if there was a time when she needed something that dad didn’t know about. More importantly, she needed to know if the wish was granted. She looked across at the road. “First left, then right, then wait, then walk”, came a voice in her mind. In all her desperation, she forced a smile. She hadn’t asked dad about how to cross the road either. She was quite content sitting at the portico watching other people come to her. Yet, dad had come one day and taught her.

Why does it have to have an air of an emotional drama, she wondered. Why couldn’t she just sit and think for a bit. Search for that glimpse of assurance. There had to be a first time for everything. But a precedent would make this situation so much simpler, she thought. But every minute mattered now. She couldn’t afford to do a whole flashback scene. Her life was too long for that. It was long and so scarcely scattered with useful matter, that searching it would be futile.

Across the road, she saw a little girl pleading with her father, asking him for a balloon. She already had three tied to her wrist. There was once a time when she’d asked him for a balloon and he’d bought it too. There was no time to wonder if her mind was playing games with her. Her father had his flaws too. He didn’t always know what she wanted. This was clearly one such time. The doctors had assured her that if he got through the next 24 hours, he’d be fine. She walked towards his ward with resolve.All she needed was another day. After all, for as long as she’d known her father hadn’t refused anything she had asked.


******
Dedicated to miracles.
Wherever they may be.