'How long will you be poring over that newspaper? Will you come here right
away and make your darling daughter eat her food?'
I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter Priya
looked frightened. Tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a
bowl filled to its brim with Curd Rice.
Priya is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age. She has just turned
eight. She particularly detested Curd Rice. My mother and my wife are
orthodox, and believe firmly in the 'cooling effects' of Curd Rice!
I cleared my throat, and picked up the bowl. "Priya darling, why don't you
take a few mouthful of this Curd Rice? Just for Dad's sake, if you don't,
your Mom will shout at me'
I could sense my wife's scowl behind my back. Priya softened a bit, and
wiped her tears with the back of her hand 'OK I will eat not just a few
mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should...' she hesistated,
'Dad if I eat this entire Curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?'

'Oh sure, darling'.
'Promise?'
'Promise'. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine,
and clinched the deal. 'Ask Mom also to give a similar promise', my
daughter insisted. My wife slapped her hand on Priya's, muttering
'Promise', without any emotion.
Now I became a bit anxious. 'Priya, you shouldn't insist on getting a
computer or any such expensive items. Dad does not have that kind of money
right now. OK?'
'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'. Slowly and painfully, she
finished eating the whole quantity. I was silently angry with my wife and
my mother for forcing my child eat something that she detested.
After the ordeal was through, Priya came to me with her eyes wide with
expectation! . All our attention was on her. 'Dad, I want to have my head
shaved off, this Sunday!' was her demand!
'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'a girl child having her head shaved off?
Impossible!'.
'Never in our family!' my mother rasped. 'She has been watching too much of
television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!'
'Priya, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with
a clean-shaven head.'
'No, Dad. I do not want anything else', Priya said with finality.
'Please, Priya, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried to
plead with her.
'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'. Priya was
in tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for. Now, you are
going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King
Harishchandra, and its moral that we should honour our promises no matter
what?'
It was time for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.'
'Are you out of your mind?' chorused my mother and wife.
'No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honour her own.
Priya, your wish will be fulfilled.'
With her head clean-shaven, Priya had a round-face, and her eyes looked big
& beautiful. On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight
to watch my hairless Priya walking towards her classroom. She turned around
and waved.

I waved back with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and
shouted, 'Priya, please wait for me!'
What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the
'in-stuff', I thought.
'Sir, your daughter Priya is great indeed!' Without introducing herself, a
lady got out of the car, and continued, 'That boy who is walking along with
your daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering from .. ...leukaemia.'
She paused to muffle her sobs. 'Harish could not attend the school for the
whole of the last month. He lost all his hair due to the side effects of
the chemotherapy. He refused to come back to school fearing the
unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates. Priya visited him last
week, and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue.
But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my
son! Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your
daughter.'
I stood transfixed. And then, I wept. 'My little Angel, will you grant me a
boon? Should there be another birth for me, will you be my mother, and
teach me what Love is?'