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RR
29th October 2006, 12:37 PM
Celebration

- Sridevi


My son is precious to me. Nothing so great about it. All fathers love their sons. The thing is I love him more than other fathers love their sons. I always observe him closely, which others fathers do not do. I get him things even before he asks. That other fathers do not do. I never hit him. That their fathers never do. Like that… in short, I adore him.

Deepavalli is approaching. No one in my neighbourhood has started buying crackers yet. The other day I saw my son’s expression when we passed by a shop in which crackers were being arranged. His eyes lit up. His face flushed. His hands were moving as if he wanted to take them. I saw his fingers gripping themselves as if he was controlling his desire. I felt his desire in every vein. I became him.

So to make him happy and make myself happy in return quietly I bought some powerful crackers for him in the night. It was eight o’ clock. The road was still busy. I wanted my neighbourhood to know that we have bought crackers. Even strangers should know that. Scooterists and cyclists were moving on even at that time. Some people were walking too. This was the right time to show off our crackers I thought. My son was in the seventh heaven, I need not tell you that. We started. One by one the crackers went off and my son’s face lit up brighter than the brightest sparklers. People on the road became alert and moved with care. I liked the way they moved to escape from the crackers. A cyclist swerved himself and my son and I started laughing. And then a couple was approaching. I saw a fat lady with her thin husband walking slowly not noticing our cracker. The moment they came closer the cracker went off like a bomb. Her husband jumped up in the shock and the lady closed her ears with both her hands. We were jubilant.

And then the unexpected happened. The fat woman came closer to us and said “If you want to kill yourself do it inside your house. Kill your son. Your wife. Your whole family. Idiots. Wasting money and killing others. I will inform the police”. And she went on cursing and cursing for at least ten minutes. Everyone came out in my neighbourhood and started watching. No one supported me. My son was clinging on to me. I couldn’t understand why she had to behave like that for a simple cracker that was burst to give happiness to a child of five years.

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