I love you...I love you more.

27^th November 2007

The whole day I had been thinking about her. I was nervous as well as excited. After all it was HER birthday that day. SHE was the best thing that had ever happened to me. She was too special for me. So very special that it can’t be expressed in any form of literature known to mankind. I loved her more than anything and anyone in this world, and she was my most precious possession. The whole day I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I had a smile all day on my face. A feeling so different, that I never felt before. I left from work early, as I had to get the gift that she demanded. Finally I bought the gift, gift wrapped it and headed home.

The drive back home was always wonderful. As i drove over the Baramunda flyover, on the left the lights of the runway lit the horizon. It was mesmerizing to watch the beautiful scenery. The winter was setting in, the cool breeze blowing across my face was rejuvenating. Bhubaneswar being a busy city, these moments, these drives back home always gave me time to think and just think about how lucky I was to have such wonderful people in my life. But that day only she, occupied my thoughts. Finally I reached home. I lived in an apartment on the third floor. As I parked my car in the garage and headed towards the lift, I felt a strange nervousness. I knew she would love the gift, she wanted it for so long. But still I felt nervous. Nervous about the way she would react. Nervous because I thought she might be angry with me. I left for work while she was sleeping. Didn’t want to disturb her, so couldn’t wish her in the morning and the whole day was too busy to make a call and wish her. Suddenly I heard a bell, and then I realized that the door of the lift was left open for too long that caused it to sound the alarm. I walked up to the door and rang the doorbell.

As I got inside and sat on the couch in the living room, I was still searching for her. On normal days she would be there sitting beside me and talking to me, telling me about all the things that happened with her during the day. But that day she wasn’t there. I walked into the bedroom and found her sitting on the bed, along with a number of gifts that she received from everyone else. But I noticed that none of them were opened yet. Each of them still wrapped. As I stood at the end of the bed, she raised her eyes to look at me. How can be someone so beautiful?? She had those sparkle in her eyes. Her cheeks were so pink and her hair so well kept. I knew she wasn’t in a mood to talk to me and was angry with me. As I sat on the bed beside her, she looked towards the other side. So stubborn…but believe me I loved these things about her. I kept her gift among all other gifts lying on the bed. She didn’t respond for sometime and then slowly took the gift and still facing away from me, opened it. As she saw the gift, she smiled to herself. Turning around she looked at me. Holding my ears and mouthing sorry, I spread my arms gesturing her to come to me. She kept the gift aside and came and sat over my laps. Then hugging me tight, she said. “thank you dada”. Those words were like music to my ears. I had been waiting the whole day to hear her say this. Every day I do so. And there I was, sitting on my bed, with my 5 year old daughter in my laps. I felt complete. I loved her so much. My daughter…my DAUGHTER. 

I felt a hand on my shoulders, I looked back to see Anjali standing beside me. My better half. On seeing her, Pranjali (that is what my angel is named, though I called her with thousand different names) was so eager to show her ma that what did she get as her birthday present, that she couldn’t contain her excitement. We both sat on the bed and saw her operating the airplane that she just received as her birthday present. She always had this fascination about aircrafts. All day long whenever she would hear a jet engine roar while take-off or landing she would run towards the balcony and watch it either land and come to a halt or get invisible in the blue sky where her eyes can no more see it. One day in the evening while sitting with me in the balcony, as a flight took-off she said, “dada I want to be a pilot and fly one day”. I asked her, “and from where will you get an airplane baby?” to which she replied, “I know my dada will get me one”.

As she went into the living room to get some free space to play with the airplane, I looked at Anjali. She as always patient and with a smile on her face said, “you are going to spoil her”. “I just want her to be free, and live life to the fullest” I said. I may be a father know, but I still was a kid. Anjali knew it. Sometimes I wondered how much patience has she got, because she had to deal with two kids all by herself. I was no less than a child to her. She loved me, and I adored her. I had immense amount of respect for her, and I was sure that pranjali could not have had a better ma than Anjali. “I am lucky to have you in my life”, I said. To which she smiled and replied, “we both are lucky to have you in our life”.

I was the happiest person in this world. I had a family, my own family. As I freshened up and came into the living room, she was still playing with the plane. She was too happy. I sat on the couch and watched her play. She would put herself as the pilot of the plane and would make the noises as she held the plane and rolled it along the ground and then flew it in the air, the same way she heard every day. There wasn’t a single place where she didn’t make the airplane land. On the couch, on the table, chairs, and finally on my laps, as she settled down on my laps. Leaning against me she felt protected. And for sure I would protect her from everything. From anything that comes in her way to harm her, has to go through me first. I had planned her future very meticulously. She had just started her schooling and I wanted her to get the best of everything. Any father would have done that. I wanted her to be happy and live life and leave all the worries to me. I wanted to be her best friend, and didn’t want any such barrier to crawl up between us so that she feels lonely and devoid of fatherly love. I always wanted to be there for her, listening to her, aiding her in every decision she made, but not taking decisions on her behalf. I wanted her to make mistakes and then learn from them. 

I was brought back to the present with her irritated voice, “dada…dada….dadaaa” she punched my chest  when I didn’t respond to her for the third time. I smiled and kissed her head and she knew that I was now listening to her. She started describing how her day went. How at school she made a new friend today and again today her friend, which she says is her best friend didn’t talk to her. She said she missed me today and that she was crying in the afternoon and how ma consoled her saying that I was busy and that is why forgot to wish her. As we talked, Anjali was preparing the dinner and once served she called for us. Both of us went to the dinner table and sat for dinner. I loved this part of the day, when rather sitting at the table, my daughter preferred sitting on my laps and having dinner from my plate. Though Anjali didn’t approve of this, but still she never complained. After dinner I took pranjali to bed, and lied down beside her, telling her stories about my past that how naughty a child I was. Suddenly I woke up and got bought Anjali’s mobile. I wanted a message to be recorded in pranjali’s voice so that whenever I called my wife and she isn’t able to pick it up, the recorded voice would direct me to leave her a message. After recording her voice I kept the phone on the table and continued with my stories, and she enjoyed every bit of it. It was a habit that she had developed that she wouldn’t sleep until both ma and dada were beside her. And before sleeping, she would kiss both of us and then hug her ma and sleep. Frankly speaking I was jealous of Anjali, because she always got the chance to make her sleep. I tried asking my daughter to come and sleep beside me, even I tried bribing her with chocolates, but of no use. Finally the day, 27^th November 2007 came to an end. My daughter was 5 years old now. But I had plans for her in my mind. A whole lot of plans.  I slept with content of having such a wonderful family and thanked god for blessing me with an angel.

27th November 2013

It is her birthday again.  I am still working at the office. I left for home late in the night. The drive home wasn’t as pleasant as it used to be. Things had changed. A lot of things had changed. I was no more what I used to be. My angel….she wasn’t there waiting for me for the gift. I didn’t wish her happy birthday today, not because I was busy, not because I forgot, but because I couldn’t. She wasn’t there with me anymore. I came back home with yet another gift for her. But this time I didn’t have to ring the doorbell. I had to open the door myself. Because there was no one there, to respond.

She would have turned 11 years today, had she not been on vacation that year. I would again have heard “dada” again if I would have stopped her from going her that day. My wife Anjali, I miss her touch. I miss her smile. Why did they have to leave me?? Why did they had to go?? In November 2008, one of Anjali’s cousins was getting married. So they had to go to Mumbai. Pranjali was to accompany her and I was supposed to reach there just a day before marriage. It was all fixed. Still I didn’t want them to go alone. We had planned to celebrate pranjali’s birthday in Mumbai that year. Marriage was on 26^th November, a day before her birthday. Both of them were pretty excited. They left on 20^th of November. I had to stay alone for a week. Every night I used to talk for hours with my daughter and she would describe me how fascinated she was with the city and the beauty of it. I just counted the days as I couldn’t stay away from her for long. I left for Mumbai on 25^th November,2008. They were staying in hotel Taj, the most glamorous and royal of the hotels in Mumbai. The whole family along with my in-laws was staying there.  As I reached on 26^th, I was too happy as  I was about to see my daughter. Little did I know that very shortly the whole world of mine would come down shattering as a pile of glass.  I came to know about the terrorist attacks in Mumbai and I was terrified to hear about the attacks on the Taj. The same hotel where my family was staying. I rushed from the airport directly to the hotel and found a large number of people standing behind the barriers. A lot of police and NSG commandos all over the place sweeping the area and asking us to fall back. I pushed my way through the blocks but couldn’t manage to get through. I was left there standing helplessly hearing the gunshots fired and the grenades exploding along with thousand others, praying that nothing happens to my family. But my prayers went unanswered. Both my wife and my daughter were killed in this attack.  All of a sudden, everything was taken away from me. I didn’t know how to react. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital room, with my mother standing beside me. Her eyes sore due to crying. I looked around to see a number of people standing in the room. All were known faces. Then I had to accept the fact that this is it. This is the end.

It has been 5 years since I lost them. But not a single day has passed by when I don’t have this question in mind, that why me?? How can I just accept the fact and move on? What was their fault?? Why was my wife and daughter killed?? They never harmed anyone. My daughter…..my daughter was just 6 years old. She had a very long life ahead of her. Who gave these people the right to kill her?? I promised her I would protect her from any harm that comes in her way. But I failed. I couldn’t keep my promise. These terrorists…don’t they have a family? Are not they human beings? How could they kill a 6 year old kid?? What has got into these men? What is the government doing? Give me answers…I do have a lot of questions and so do many people whose life changed after this incident. I know I will never get any answer…not a single one. But don’t they deserve to get another chance to live?? Don’t I deserve to live once again?? Because since then, I have stopped living. I just exist.

This is my story. A story which goes unnoticed. People talked about this incident for a month and then they forgot about it. Mumbai was restored back to normal again. The damage done to the property was restored back in a few months. The terrorists were gunned down and the one which was caught by the police was hanged till death. But is that it? What about the damage done to the life of people those who were affected by it? What about the families who lost someone very precious to them? What about me? All I want to ask is what was my daughter’s fault in this?? What was Anjali’s fault in this? Shall I just console myself by saying that they were at the wrong place at the wrong time? Is this what I should live with?

Every night I dial Anjali’s number…I hear my daughter’s voice. She says, ”dada…ma isn’t there to talk to you now. You can leave her a message. And dada…i love you ” and all I can reply is “I love you more baby”.