It was a game for Charu, for me it was admiration. I admired her, her excitement, the water bottle around her neck, the bag, her shoes and everything about her. I wished to be like her, wearing all those stuffs, she wore.

A woman ran from one end, lifted Charu, and went into a room, She tried, but as Charu was little like me, she couldn’t escape from her mom.

The woman, who was introduced as my mom, an hour back was sitting on the stairs covering her face with both her hands.

Every kid was taken away by their moms, into their respective rooms. The Eldest man in the home was sitting on a wooden chair. A single-piece chair specially designed for him. No one in the home was allowed to sit in it other than him. The chair’s stretcher was carved so that it looks like dancing peacock feathers are spread over it. He was sitting on that huge chair and signalled, to close the door. I feared that they would throw me out again. So, I grabbed my saviour, my dad more tightly than before. As his one hand was released, when one man moved to close the door, Dad took me into his arms and went near Mom, dragging the other two men who were holding him behind. One was like a skeleton the other was moderately built, and they flew with my dad as he moved forward towards my mom. He was so furious, he called out, Vidhya, Vidhya.

She stretched her head upwards and looked at us. I was put in her lap and he asked her to get into the room soon. I too had a mom like other kids. She too had a kid like other women in that home, and it was me. I felt I belonged to her. She gave me a sense of comfort and belonging in just the way she held me.     

She stood lifting me and did as he said. As she climbed the stairs holding me on her hip, I saw my dad releasing himself from the other two men by pushing them aside and striding towards the eldest man in the home, who was sitting like a king.

I was taken into the same room, where I was taken at first. I was excited to see the teddy back, it was in the same position in the swing. My mom lay down on the bed holding me tightly. She didn’t speak, I slept in the warmth of her breath. That’s how it became, my home.

Original Copyright © Sukanya Pon