Thread by @Shayonnita15

We're passing by the airport when my cab driver turns down the radio. He asks me for a moment, and then receives a call—on loudspeaker.

A little voice bursts from the phone, "Papa aap kaha ho, kab aaoge?" [Papa, where are you, when will you come?]

1.

My cabbie is all smiles. "I'll be there by 12," he says. The little voice giggles and asks softly, "Did you meet anyone nice today?"

Cabbie says, "Haan, baba! Will tell you all about it."

"Come fast!" our little friend pleads before hanging up. My heart is all wrung out.

2

"Son?" I ask.

"Daughter," he tells me. Four years old.

"Quite late for a child to be up," I observe.

"She won't sleep unless I'm home," he tells me. He tries to sound indignant, but I can hear the warmth in his voice. The little balled up happiness that she cares. So much.

3.

I laugh. "You tell her stories?"

"One everyday," he answers. "About people I apparently meet while driving my cab which she really thinks is a magical car."

He is smiling a little. The smile of a grown man spinning worlds of silliness for his little girl.

4.

"Dinosaurs, animals, her cartoons—I meet everyone in this cab! Sometimes making all these stories I wonder how to come up with more ideas. Her mother helps!"

My cheeks are aching from smiling. I remember my father and his stories of Hodulkutkut, man who walked on his hands—

5.

—ate with his ears, wore his trousers on his head, and was the source of much laughter when I was little.

"You must really miss her," I ask, feeling a little like Captain Obvious.

"I do," he nods.

An old Hindi song plays on the radio, filling the car's silence.

6.

A beat goes by.

Then, as if letting go of something, he continues, "She stays up late, and then has trouble getting up for school in the morning. But what can we do."

"Can't you leave this," I ask, slightly naively, slightly hopefully. "Get a different job? Better hours?"

7.

"This pays well, Madam," he answers. "And well, if slightly less time with her now means she'll be on your side of the taxi when she grows up, it's okay, madam."

My heart clutches. An ad has started on the radio. Something noisy about mosquitoes and a family.

8.

"May it be so, sir," I answer.

May it be so.

Fin.

For @ArnabMallik8, my baba, the creative genius behind Hodulkutkut—the character who was more description and less story, which was the real reason for all the fun. ♥️

Thanks baba, Hodulkutkut was the original rebel—will always love that guy.

Thank you all for reading sharing this story celebrating parenting. :')

Please, one request. If you are sharing it on Facebook/Instagram/etc, kindly credit it to me. This is my story and my writing.

Please.