A daughter has a special place in a family for the reason that she will be leaving the family after her marriage.
The agony of leaving the daughter after her wedding is greatly felt in India. To see her again, she has to visit the parents as they have reservations to visit the son-in-law.
I recollect the occasion when my daughter first visited us after her marriage.
Our house was spruced up. I went to the station long before the arrival of the train. She did not allow me to carry her baggage. My cute little grandson walked along with me holding my hand. Normally, I preferred the bus but I engaged a cab.
The joy of the parents meeting their daughter long after her marriage cannot be expressed in words.
She was totally a different person. Her complexion had improved. She looked bright and cheerful. Saree and churidar were gone and replaced by jeans and leggings. The long-plaited hairstyle was cut short. High heels had come in. A fancy handbag was on.
All these changes were due to the influence of the man of her life. We were only happy to see these changes.
She had brought my favorite plum cake and my wife's dry Jamoon. She had come for a stay of only 15 days. Every night, she took us to the hotel for tiffin and ice cream. She was on a spending spree.
The little kid was a wonder to watch and to play with. He never gave any trouble. He was always quiet and mingled with us freely.
He ate his food on time. He was playing with his dolls, building houses, drawing pictures, cutting and pasting them, listening to kids' songs, etc.
The house was scattered with his playthings. No one was bothered about it . I sang our family song every time to make him sleep. It was the same song that I sang for my daughter also when she was a kid. I could see a glint of a smile on her face.
Our daughter was busy with office work till late in the night and woke up late. She ate very little food and the mother was chiding her.
We were always talking either sitting in the hall or on the kitchen table or lying on the bed with her head on my lap and the legs on the mother who was pressing it with love.
It was a delight to watch her expressive face and twinkling eyes. We were happy to see loads of currency in her handbag, her modern accent, freedom of expression, and better exposure and outlook. At times, we even doubted whether she was the same daughter.
Days moved fast. Since she had become the wife of another man, we could not retain her any longer.
The day of her departure had arrived. We were devastated. The house looked gloomy everywhere. No one talked much. There was silence all over. The food was not tasty.
She packed her things. My wife prepared food for their journey. I went out and got some snacks and sweets for her in-laws.
Finally, the cab arrived. We went to the station to see her off. I could see tears in the corner of my wife's eyes. I could feel a lump in my throat.
Inside the compartment, my grandson was sitting on my lap, playing with my fingers and uttering some words only known to him.
When we got down, he started crying to come with us. The train started off mercilessly without understanding our feelings. From the outside, we could see her face as a silhouette through the tinted window glass.
Slowly they were moving off. Suddenly, my wife hugged me and started crying on my shoulders. I could not find words to console her.
Everyone around was watching us. When we were going to see them again? The separation of loved ones was the most painful experience.
