What Love Is?

What Love is?

'How long will you be poring over that newspaper? Will you come here
right away and make your darling daughter eat her food?'

I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter Sindu

looked
frightened. Tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a
bowl filled to its brim with Curd Rice.

Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age. She has just
turned eight. She particularly detested Curd Rice. My mother and my wife
are

orthodox, and believe firmly in the 'cooling effects' of Curd Rice!

I cleared my throat, and picked up the bowl. "Sindu, darling, why don't

you take a few mouthful of this Curd Rice? Just for Dad's sake, dear.
And,
if you
don't, your Mom will shout at me'

I could sense my wife's scowl behind my back. Sindu softened a bit, and

wiped
her tears with the back of her hands. 'OK, Dad. I will eat - not just a

few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should...' Sindu
hesitated.

'Dad, if I eat this entire Curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask
for?'

'Oh sure, darling'.

'Promise?'

'Promise'. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with
mine, and clinched the deal.

'Ask Mom also to give a similar promise', my daughter insisted. My wife

slapped
her hand on Sindu's, muttering 'Promise', without any emotion.

Now I became a bit anxious. 'Sindumma, you shouldn't insist on getting a

computer or any such expensive items. Dad does not have that kind of
money right now. OK?'

'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'. Slowly and painfully, she
finished eating the whole quantity. I was silently angry with my wife
and

my
mother for forcing my child eat something that she detested.

After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with
expectation. All our attention was on her. 'Dad, I want to have my head

shaved
off, this Sunday!' was her demand!

'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'a girl child having her head shaved off?
Impossible!'.

'Never in our family!' my mother rasped. 'She has been watching too much

of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV
programs!'

'Sindumma, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing
you with a clean-shaven head.'

'No, Dad. I do not want anything else', Sindu said with finality.

'Please, Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried
to

plead
with her.

'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'. Sindu

was in
tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for. Now, you are

going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King
Harishchandra, and its moral that we should honour our promises no
matter what?'

It was time for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.'

'Are you out your mind?' chorused my mother and wife.

'No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honour her

own. Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.'

With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked

big &
beautiful.

On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch
my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom. She turned around and
waved.
I waved back with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and

shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait for me!'

What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the
in-stuff', I thought.

'Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!' Without introducing
herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued, 'That boy who is
walking along

with your
daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering from ... ... leukaemia.'

She paused to muffle her sobs. 'Harish could not attend the school for
the

whole of the last month. He lost all his hair due to the side effects of

the chemotherapy. He refused to come back to school fearing the
unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates. Sinduja visited him
last week, and

promised
him that she will take care of the teasing issue.
But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake
of

my son! Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as
your daughter.'

I stood transfixed. And then, I wept. 'My little Angel, will you grant
me

a boon? Should there be another birth for me, will you be my mother, and

teach me
what Love is?'