The Innocence.....
Aishwarya clutched the handle of the old scooter as her father navigated the bumpy road toward the Shiv Temple. It was her sixth birthday. Dressed in a lime-yellow frock adorned with delicate ribbons and pristine white shoes, she radiated joy.
Inside the temple, her father lifted her gently, guiding her through the sacred space. Before a revered idol, he handed her a coin and whispered, “Place it on the forehead and press it hard.”
Her tiny fingers obeyed, but as she withdrew her hand, the coin slipped, hitting the floor with a sharp cling. Her father’s expression faltered, disappointment flickering in his eyes. Confused, Aishwarya stared at the idol—why wouldn’t the cow accept her coin? Was it her fault? Had she done something wrong?
The Celebration and the Shadow
Two years later, on the eve of Aishwarya’s eighth birthday, her father stumbled home, the scent of alcohol lingering on his breath. The day at the garage had been unforgiving, but tomorrow had to be special. Borrowing money from his closest friend, Ramesh, he envisioned a grand celebration.
Sugadha, Aishwarya’s mother, disapproved. “Why make such a fuss? She’s just a girl,” she murmured, stirring a simple pot of payasam.
But the next day, their modest home burst into color. A large metal barrel brimmed with orange juice. Tables overflowed with pastries, wafers, chocolates, and tiny trinkets. Children in bright hues of pink, blue, and yellow giggled and ran about, their laughter weaving into the festive air.
Aishwarya was elated, basking in the warmth of attention, gifts, and affection. The evening sun dipped below the horizon as she eagerly unwrapped her presents, oblivious to the darkness that awaited her.
For as the night deepened, another side of her father—the side that lurked in shadows, one she didn’t yet understand—was about to emerge.
To be continued....
