Mrs Sharma’s daughter – 2 (short story)

Dear Diary,

Its been a few days since I have written to you. I am sorry about being irregular. I promise to keep writing every day from tomorrow. You must be wondering how I have been doing? Don’t worry, I am here to tell you everything.

I had an amazing 10^th birthday party this weekend. All my friends came to our home for the party. I showed my room and my wall of drawings to all my friends. Everyone loved the ceiling of my room where I have stuck little star stickers. I can’t even count the number of gifts I got. You wouldn’t even believe me, if I told you. It was a wonderful day.  I think Nikita was a little jealous of my room. Maybe she doesn’t have a lovely bed and a fluffy mattress in her house, like I do. Anyway, too bad for her. I love my home. I also love my parents. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

Mummy and Papa also love me very much. Every night before Papa comes home from work, Mummy and I sit at the window and listen to old Hindi songs on the radio. It is my favorite thing to do all day. I also know the voice of the anchor of the radio program and can say it just like she does – “Mohammed Rafi se Lata Mangeshkar ki aawaaz ko lekar aayi hoon main RJ Neha!”. Maybe I will also grow up to be an RJ or maybe I will do what Papa does. I don’t get to see him much because it is usually bed time for me right after he gets home. But I know he does something amazing. He comes home at 8pm every day and sits down on the sofa by the window. He then says, in his warm deep voice. “Where’s the chai Mrs. Sharma!” Hehe. I like imitating the way he says it.  

What else happened, that I haven’t told you? Oh yeah, I overheard Papa and Mummy talking about moving houses. I don’t know what that means. Were they talking about moving to a different city? But, I love my beautiful room and our lovely house and all my friends, even Nikita. I will be really sad if they decide to move. I don’t know how I will say Goodbye. Uhhhh. Even thinking about it is scary. Please God. Tell my parents that they don’t need to move. That this place is perfect.

I am going to go sit at the window with mummy now. The radio program is almost about to start. Don’t worry dear diary. I will tell you everything that happens. I am sure nothing bad will happen. I have my lovely home and family forever.”

***

It was like any other day in St. Catherine’s Home for the Orphans. It was 7pm and Matron fumed into the girl’s dormitory. “Everyone into the dining halls, right now! Everyone means everyone. Whoever goes late will not get dinner tonight. Nikita get up! Where is your friend Neha? Why is her bed empty? Oh! look at all this mess. She has been drawing on the bunk beds again. I should not let you girls bring chalk into the dormitory. Now I will have to clean all these scribbles. Where is she anyway?

Oh! Of course, there she is, sitting by the window! This girl is always distracted. Neha! Stop singing out of the window and get to the dining hall.” Neha quickly jumps out of the window and runs to her bed. She grabs her diary, stuffing it in her front pocket and runs to join the girls lining up for the dining halls.

Matron closes the big windows of the dormitory hall. She hears the radio playing downstairs. And then she hears the loud voices of people quarreling, drowning out the sound of the music. “Where is my damn Chai! Mrs. Sharma!”

“Oh! It’s the Sharma family downstairs.” – Matron exclaims. “Always fighting, those two. Thank the lord they are moving out next month. It can’t be healthy for the girls to always be overhearing adults fighting. Especially Neha. No wonder she always seems distracted. I think she will be happy to hear they are moving out. I will tell her first thing tomorrow morning. “