The Stone in My Little Heart

Nisha Karki
Posted September 11, 2011 from Nepal

The pouring of rain was not as before, and the stars were not twinkling like yesterday. Something was going on, but my little heart couldn’t perceive it. I was in a dilemma as nothing I could feel was like yesterday. Neither could I feel warmth of my dad’s hands nor was my charming mom there to give me a good-night kiss. How couldn’t I be astonished? Since my birth, it was the first time when my little heart had felt such an unusual pain. When I glanced at my father’s eyes, I saw his blackish face filled with worries and his catty eyes staring at the delivery room. I didn’t dare to ask him why my mom was yelling from that dark room. Before coming to the hospital, my father had told me that we were here to welcome my new doll, but now I couldn’t see my mom and my doll. I was anxious to find nothing—nothing, neither a single thing like I had imagined before when I was kissing my new doll on my mom’s large belly. I was worried not to find what those uncles in white dress were doing to my mom. “Are they going to cut my mom? Oh! No-no they can’t – they can’t because my father is here to protect us,” my little mind said. After a while, my father noticed that his little daughter was weeping, so he tried to console her by singing lore. Then, when I opened my eyes, it was the next morning, and I found myself lying on my bed. Blinking my eyes, I shouted, “Nanny, nanny where are my mom and dad, where are they?” My old nanny replied, “You, my irritating rabbit, just be quiet for a while, and get ready to see a pleasant surprise lying in the hospital-room.” “What? What may be there in that cold room?” my little heart was now bewildered. When I reached the hospital, I found that my papa was holding a beautiful baby, and his thin cheeks were glowing like a full moon. My father turned towards me and asked, “Isn’t it cheerful to have a beautiful flower blossom in our garden, my little, cutie, sweetie rabbit?” I smiled and looked at my little sister. Her face was twinkling like stars, her marble eyes were sparkling like diamonds, and she was perfectly like a fairy with her tiny legs and hands. “She is a fairy sent by an angel to play with me. Isn’t it papa?” I shouted. My father and nanny started to laugh. Meanwhile, my mom woke-up and asked my dad, “Where is her grandma?” My father didn’t utter a single word, but all of a sudden, his glowing face turned dull. My mother lying on the bed didn’t even notice how much her little rabbit was missing her from yesterday. However, I could sense that something was going in my mom’s head when I looked at her gloomy face. “Why is grandma not here with us, papa?” suddenly I asked. My mom started to cry and replied me, “Your grandma doesn’t like your little sister,” but “Why – why not?” I asked again. Nobody responded to me, and there was just a pin-drop silent. I was surprised to see my parents’ faces filled with anxiety. My dad tried to comfort my mom and said, “Darling you know how your mother-in-law is. It will take time for her to understand how lucky our new dolly is.” My weeping mom’s head was in my papa’s lap, and my dolly was sleeping silently being unaware of the unhappiness that had filled the room. At afternoon, nanny and I returned back to home; I hastily ran into my grandma’s room to explain that how beautiful my little dolly was. My grandma, whose days after my mother’s pregnancy went on praying to the god in the hope of getting a grandson, ordered my nanny to take me away from her. Moreover, she never visited my mom and my dolly when they were in the hospital. After a week, my mom was back at home with my dolly. I was tremendously happy to see my dolly in my home, but my grandma wasn’t. My petite eyes could notice that storm had already broken inside my grandma’s heart. Her annoyance was in some way reasonable because then our society was filled with stereotypes that a son was necessary to run the family name, and now there was no one to run my family name. From my mom’s lackluster face, I could perceive that she was upset for not being able to fulfill my grandma’s desire of having a grandson. It was the day when fire started to grow inside my lovely home. My grandma’s attitude towards my little sister made me wonder why she hated my little angel. With my childish voice I often asked my mom and dad several questions about my grandma’s changing behavior, but neither of them was answered. My tiny heart could just experience that something bad was happening in my charming house. I could see that my grandma’s lovely heart was turning into a devil. Day after day, it was obvious that my grandma’s and my mom’s relationship was freezing. Nearly after six months of my sweetie’s birth, my grandma totally stopped to talk with my mom. She started to force my dad to have a second marriage to get a grandson from her new daughter-in-law. My dad tried to convince her, but no not, not a single word she wanted to listen from anyone except her stubborn wish of having a grandson. My parents were unable to withstand her stubbornness. So, after all we decided to leave grandma’s home. The decision was not easy for my parents because they had me and just a six months old baby with them. I was unhappy to leave my house, but my dad promised me to make a better house than my grandma’s, so I agreed to leave my lovely home. However, the pain given by my grandma was deeply infused inside my tiny heart. We went to my maternal home, and with the help of my grandpa, my dad opened a grocery. My parents started to struggle, and my dad often said my mom not to get dishearten for what we had in the past. I was sent to a new school, where I had many new friends. Times were passing, and now, my little sister was able to say to me di (sister) in her babyish voice, and could dance with her quivering foot. Nearly two years past, but we didn’t dare to visit our grandma and neither did she visit us. One day, we heard that our grandma sold her property and went to India to live with her next son. People said that my grandma was treated badly by her drunkard son, but my grandma never called us so we thought that what people said was rumors. After all, it was her decision to leave us. Suddenly, one day, when I was in the sixth grade, I heard that my grandma was coming back to live with us. I was surprised to hear that. “Mom you know that she had always wanted a grandson, and they are in India not here, so why does she want to live with us?” I blathered. “Your grandma is having a difficult time with your uncle, and as she is part of our family, it is our duty to help her,” my mom explained to me. Two days later, she was in our home. I didn’t notice how unwillingly my heart had started to hate my grandma. Her presences started to bother me though my mom continuously scolded me for not respecting her. “It isn’t my fault to hate her; it is she who made me to do so,” my heart answered me. How could I forgive her for what she had done to my infant sister and with my parents? It was difficult for me to love her again because my childish heart was once broken by her. “Now after all when life has given us a little happiness, she has again arrived to ruin it,” I thought several times. My grandma tried several times to talk with me, but my heart wasn’t willing to talk with her. However, with passing time, I could notice that my grandma’s behavior was also changing like her growing wrinkles. I could feel that she was regretful for the past. Her views were changed now, and whenever a daughter was born in my village, she was the first who held her in her hand and said, “I missed my granddaughter but not you.” Now, after all when my sister and I were doing well in our studies, she understood that daughters could also be like sons if they got opportunities. It was not easy for me to forgive her, but I did. I did because now my heart could perceive the changes in my grandma’s thoughts. Eight years had already passed, when my grandma first returned to us, but still now I sometimes feel the stone in my heart whenever I reminisce about the past.

Comments 0

Log in or register to post comments