“DAD”

“DAD”

I looked out of the window at the pouring rain and heard the sound of the water droplets on the window of my car. It had been 10 years since I got my hearing implants, but I still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that I could hear. I never can, I suppose. The honking of car horns brought me back to the present, and I looked up to see the light turn green and the cars rushing. In a matter of seconds people behind us were honking so my taxi driver sped up.

We crossed a park on the side of the road, and I caught a glimpse of a happy couple, playing in the park with their daughters. I wondered how it felt to be a part of a family with a mom and a dad. All I had was Meera , the head of the orphanage, and my brothers and sisters from St. Marks Orphanage . They were what I called my family. I remember when Meera told me my story.

*FLASHBACK*

It was my 13^th birthday and I somehow convinced her that I was old enough to know. “You were about three when a tall man in black overalls and a coat left you with Kevin on a very stormy night. He also left a note and some baby stuff. You were sleeping when he left you in Kevin’s arms .You were so cute!” she said with clarity, making sure I understood what she was saying. It took me a minute to understand as I quickly lip read her narrative.

I playfully slapped her arm and said “hey! I still am. Could I see the note?”

She looked unsure but handed me the piece of paper that she took out from her cupboard. It was yellowish with age. It kind of made me sad when I read that-

I put a lot of thought into this decision. After the passing away of her mother I  consider myself an incapable parent. I request you to take care of her.

*FLASHBACK OVER* I felt my eyes tinge but fought my urge to cry. I had a blurry memory of my previous home. I vaguely remember the face of a woman whose looks are quite similar to mine; who I think was my mother, and a man with brown hair like my own, who must have been my father. I turned towards Meera to ask the only question I wanted to. “Did Kevin get a glimpse of his face?” I asked, hesitating with my speech. She knew who I was talking about. She sadly smiled and replied using sign language this time, “No honey, unfortunately not.” I didn’t like to see Meera sad so I tried to lighten the mood. “That’s okay! I mean who wants to be seen with a man wearing black overalls!” She laughed, maybe not because of it was funny, but because how I fumbled with words. I had just learnt to talk thanks to speech therapy.

My phone buzzed and I looked down to see who it was. It was a text from Meera, “Where are you? The kids are waiting.” I picked up my phone and messaged back- “On my way, theres a little bit of traffic, will be there in 20 mins.” I had promised Meera to help her with Judy’s birthday, an orphan at St. Mark’s, which was today. I had just picked up her fairy princess cake and was heading to the party.

The rain had stopped which disappointed me a little as I loved the sound of it. In fact, I loved the sound of everything around me. I can’t be more thankful for these implants that have changed my life. I am thankful for the man who donated money for my implants. It was anonymous, so I never got to thank him in person, but god bless his soul!

I was greeted by the shrieks of the children playing at the orphanage. “The cake is here!” They all ran up to me, and huddled around. With some difficulty I managed to reach inside the building, and safely placed the cake on the kitchen counter. As soon as I hugged Meera and wished Judy, I heard the honk of the cabbie demanding his fee. “I got it!” Kevin shouted. He was my teacher. Since sending everyone to school would cost a lot, Meera had hired a permanent teacher. I gave him a warm smile and turned towards the birthday girl.

“So Judy, How’s it going?”

“Not so great, I asked God yesterday, if he could send a fairy to my party, but he didn’t” She said pouting her lips. I and Meera looked at each other when suddenly I had an idea. I bent down on my knees and looked at Judy.

“God didn’t send a fairy because we already have one! Our fairy is Meera. The job of a fairy is to look out for us, and take care of us, and who does that for us?” I asked.

She looked at me and smiled, “Meera!” Then she ran up to her and hugged her and shouted in her little squeaky voice, “I love you, Meera!”

I rose and looked at Meera, who turned and gave a wide smile and I mouthed ‘I love you too’. I could see her eyes getting wet.

After cutting the cake, Meera handed me a bag filled with boxes, wrapped in shiny paper. She asked me to hand it out to the respective kids since the boxes had their names on them. Then finally everything wa s silent as they were all opening their gifts and playing with their toys. I went and sat with Meera and she poured me some tea.

“Since when did we become so rich?” I asked pulling a chair.

“Since your arrival, I guess! Ever since you came to this place we have been getting anonymous donations every now and then. You’re very lucky for this place you know.” She smiled at me and I smiled back. I had heard about the donations but never been sure. She went to the kitchen and walked back, with a cupcake with a candle on top of it. Of course she remembered.

“Happy Birthday Angel!” I blew out the candle and we divided the cupcake in half, and in a matter of seconds it was gone. The loud bell rang and I told her that I’ll go get it.

It was dark outside and there was a slight drizzle. I opened the little shutter on the Iron Gate and looked at a man in a black coat. I couldn’t see him properly. “Yes?” I asked him and instead of replying he just stared at me and smiled. He handed me a parcel and said, “This is for you.” There was something oddly familiar about his voice but I was not able to put my finger on it.

I switched on the guard house light and the man started retreating. I ignored him and ripped open the parcel. It was a photo frame with a picture of a man and woman, sitting with a little girl in their lap. They were sitting on the grass and seemed to be having a picnic. I looked at the happy family and recognized it as my parents and myself. Under the photo frame was a Happy Birthday card. I opened it and it read “Happy Birthday, my love.”

I looked for the man who was no longer there. Instead I saw his car leaving. I didn’t know what to say, and the only thing that came out of my mouth looking at the car was “Dad…..”

The inspiration for this story is the very spontaneous and gorgeous Sarah Churman, she is not an orphan or anything but a girl with hearing impairment who hasn't let anything come in between her living a normal life. She has taught me how we take things for granted. God bless her awesome soul!

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