The reunion (844 words)

It had been more than three years since I had last seen my dad. He was still living in the same house where I had grown up and lived until my marriage. Having lost my mother at a young age, he was everything to me, both mom and dad. I was the only child, born late to my parents, and after my mother’s passing, he never remarried.

He showered me with affection and pampered me, fulfilling every wish of mine. Because of him, I never truly felt the absence of my mother. He put me in the best school and would stay awake late into the night while I studied. Often, he made me tea when I worked through the early hours and woke up early again to prepare my breakfast and lunch.

When I went to college, he bought me a scooter and encouraged me to choose the course I loved, even though it wasn’t popular. He taught me to stand by my convictions. When I completed my postgraduate degree in journalism, his joy knew no bounds.

After I joined a newspaper, he said one day, “Lakshmi, I am getting old. I would like to see you married. I am receiving proposals from different families.”

“Daddy, I’m glad you brought it up,” I replied. “I wanted to tell you something but didn’t know how you would react. I’m in love with a man who studied with me in college. He’s well employed and comes from a good family, but he belongs to a different religion. Please allow me to marry him. I can’t think of anyone else in his place.”

For the first time in my life, I saw him explode in anger. “You ungrateful girl!” he shouted. “Is this what you do to me after all my sacrifices for you? I will not permit this. If you marry him, you are no longer my daughter, and I am not your father. You make up your mind, either me or him!”

I didn’t pursue the matter immediately. I knew his misgivings came from concern and needed to be handled gently. After a week, I tried to reason with him, but in vain. Even after two months, he remained adamant. Finally, I steeled myself and walked out of the house.

I soon married the man I loved, and in time, we had a child. I tried later to reach out to my dad, but he neither welcomed me nor visited. My letters went unanswered.

His birthday was approaching when I heard from a neighbour that he hadn’t been keeping well. That night, I had a disturbing dream that he was very sick and wanted to see me. When I woke up, the urge to meet him was overpowering. My husband suggested that we all go together, but I refused, unsure how my father would treat him.

I decided to go alone with my little daughter. He lived just three hours away in another town. I bought some fruits and sweets and waited for the bus. The return bus from his town was delayed, so I sat there, praying fervently that he would forgive me and agree to come and live with us. I wanted to ensure his remaining years were spent in comfort and love. Yet a part of me feared he might still turn me away.

I was determined, however, not to return without reconciling with him. What I didn’t know then was that my husband, sensing my silent pain all these years, had quietly written to my father a week earlier. In that letter, he expressed his deep respect and admiration for him, for the values he had instilled in me and for the love that shaped me. He ended the letter saying, “Sir, Lakshmi may be your daughter by birth, but I see every day how your upbringing shines through her. I would be grateful if you could forgive us both and let her smile freely again.”

The waiting passengers around me stood up as the bus arrived at the stand. As I picked up my daughter and bag, waiting for my turn in the line, I saw, among the passengers alighting, a frail figure climbing down. When I looked closer, my heart skipped a beat; it was my dad.

“Daddy! Daddy!” I cried out.

He turned towards me, his eyes moist, and came rushing forward with a broad smile. In that instant, I knew he had changed. He took my daughter from my arms and showered her with kisses, leaving her bewildered and shy.

As we walked hand in hand toward my home, he said softly, “Your husband’s letter reached me at the right time. I realised how foolish I had been. I only wanted your happiness, and I see now, you already found it.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. My prayer had indeed been answered, not by chance alone, but through the quiet love and effort of the man who had once been the cause of our distance and was now the bridge that brought us together.