Cool Waters (Part 4)

The girl would wait all day, suffer the mundane routine of life, only so she could at nightfall escape to this other secret world where she would meet the woman she wanted to be. She began to wonder if this woman was a princess of some sort, for she wore such beautiful clothes. She knew there were no princesses; we lived in a democracy, didn’t we? Yet that feeling that all that was taken for fact in the real world did not make sense in the world that the Woman was a part of.

During the day, the girl would busy herself making little baubles she could take to the woman. She would cut up bits of coloured paper and make flowers out of them. She would stitch bits of cloth together to make bunting. She would think of clever things to say to her. None of these really pleased the woman, who remained aloof even while she was polite. The girl tried not to be dismayed. She told herself, it is understandable that this princess would not like my paper flowers for they give no fragrance. My bunting is untidy and the things I say are, after all, childish. I must not worry, for, with time I will speak like this lady does; with politeness and restrain.

Finally one night as the two of them stayed by the cool waters, the woman seemed lost in thoughts. The girl had never seen her pensive and she was amazed. So the princess was capable of worry as well! Who could have guessed! The moon rays fell on the water and the ripples looked like stringed pearls. The queen of pearls herself sat on the swing and stared at her own reflection. ‘What is the matter?’ the girl asked in a low, scared voice, ‘Is something bothering you?’ The woman looked up and looked straight into the little girl’s eyes. ‘I want to ask you something’, she said at length, ‘Why do come here little one? Why do come see me?’ The girl blushed. How was she to put into words the truth? How do you tell someone that you admire them more them anything else in this world? How do you tell someone you want to be them? What if you are too scared to speak? ‘I like you,’ the girl managed to lisp. The woman laughed. I will laugh like that someday, girl said to herself. ‘You like me?’ the woman echoed, ‘How wonderful!’ Why was she behaving like she did not know that. Had it not been obvious from the start? ‘How much do you like me, little one?’ The girl looked up and stopped blushing. How could she answer that? She loved her a lot, but how much was a lot. She remained silent. The woman spoke again, ‘Do you love me enough to do anything for me, little one?’ The girl wanted to nod. She wanted to say something in the affirmative. She wanted to assure the woman that she would even die for her? Would she? She remained silent. ‘Then listen to me,’ said the woman, ‘If you like me, bring me something dear to you. Bring me something you cannot do without. Not these bits of paper or these rags of cloth. Bring me… bring me your father.’ The girl shuddered inside. ‘Go then. Do as I say, if you like me.’

The girl got up and walked away. She walked in even, gradual steps. She did not run like she always did. She walked as if she were old. She did not turn back to look, not once. She went back home to her own bed. After that night, she never went back to see the woman. Every night she slept in her own bed, a dreamless sleep, peaceful and content. She did not think of the woman, not once.

Sometimes the girl would be very bored again. Then, she would play with other children or complain about how she did not like tennis or cricket. Sometimes she would read books, but only books without pictures. She was happy, at least as happy as most of us. Sometimes she was sad, but no matter how sad she was, she never went back to the cool waters, not once.
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