After undergoing the scalpel for hernia, I was homebound for two weeks.
“Everyone is going to the village fair,” Niva my six years old daughter said.
“We will go too,” I said.
‘But your hernia?’
‘I will drive slowly.’ I said.
‘No. We can’t run the risk.’
‘Don’t worry sweetie. I will be joining office tomorrow.’
‘Will you be able to drive the car?’
‘Not car, but bike. Doctor has said I can’t drive car for a month. But bike is fine. Grandma will stay at home. We three, you me and your mum will go.’The malls in the cities hold a sophisticated fair, replete with various joy rides throughout the year. Niva had seen them. The village fair is not that polished or sophisticated, but it certainly is more colorful and lively. Niva had never visited the village fair. Plus the giant wheel was an added attraction. Niva had read about it only in the books. No fairs were held for the last two years due to covid 19 restrictions. Naturally, Niva was brimming with excitement at the thought of visiting the fair, more particularly enjoying the ride in the giant wheel.
‘You too come along.’ She said as she sat in the cabin of the giant wheel.
‘I am recovering. I have been advised to avoid movements that may cause jerks. Your mum will accompany you.’ I said. Given the obedient child that she is, she agreed.
I stood at a distance watching them. Their cabin was now at the top of the wheel. She waved at me. I lifted my hand and waved back. My cabin of life too was now at the top of the wheel, the giant wheel of time. Niva had just begun the ascending journey on the said wheel. My mother’s wheel was now descending down. So she had stayed at home. In another twenty years, I was going to step in mother’s shoes. May be I would then stay at home and Niva would bring her children to the fair. After the ride in the merry go round, Niva wanted to enjoy a ride in merry go round, which was followed by jumping on an elastic bouncy mat. She practically enjoyed every ride in the fair. But her heart was longing for more. She ate the pink, freshly made candy floss and bright green maroon ice gola. She had enjoyed umpteen cups of ice-cream in her life, but ice gola was something she was tasting for the first time.
Everything was new for her and I wanted her to experience all that she hankered for. So we bought a mouthpiece with a whistle attached to it. Its sound was certainly unpleasant and hoarse. ‘Why did you buy this? I am already losing my hearing with age.’
My mother said when we returned home. I sat next to her and said, ‘Everything is new for her, Mother. Her life has just begun to blossom. Yours is withering and is in the last leg. My youth will recede now, but for her it’s just the beginning. Such small experiences will be stored in her heart. When she grows up, she will not remember the money and bank balance we left for her. But memories of this mouthpiece, the gola, the giant wheel will bring a smile on her face and fill her heart with joy. Besides, who is going to buy all these things for her after I am gone. You remain a child only until your parents are alive.’ The atmosphere became serious. To make it lighter I said, ‘As regards this mouthpiece is concerned, how will the neighbours know that we had been to the fair, unless they hear its hoarse sound.’
Mahesh Sowani is an eminent author.