The Gift (24/02/25)

The Gift 

(How different stories can originate from the same subject, gets illustrated by the following story. My story entitled “The Slut”, which is a part of a collection of stories published with the title “Some Friends Are Forever & Other stories” by ZorbaBooks, mainly deals with the nobility of a supposedly characterless woman. While the present story deals with the bonding of the strained relationship between a father and daughter over the presence of an ignoble woman in his life.)

THE GIFT

The package on my doorstep had my name, but I definitely didn’t order it!

The caller from Amazon had been calling me for the last five minutes or so for directions to my address first and the OTP next. So I told him that 41, Deblane was situated right behind BoB on CIT Road before telling him the OTP.

When I opened the front door, there was this parcel left on the step! The kameni and sheuli trees in the gardens outside the front door seemed wet due to the rains earlier. So were their white petals all over the doorsteps.

I picked up the parcel bending down before closing the front gate. The world outside seemed asleep and at peace. 

But peace was missing in my fast-beating heart. Entering my room, I unwrapped the squarish, plastic cover with Amazon written all over. I glimpsed at the pitch board box inside for the first time. My curiosity getting the better of me, it didn’t take me long to cut through the tapes and put my hand in, groping for what lay inside. As I lifted the book out of the box, I couldn’t help muttering :

“God! Who could have sent this to me?” It was a brand new edition of my most, all-time favourite novel, entitled “The Prize” by Irving Wallace.

A book that changed my life forever…..

I was working as a high school teacher when I was introduced to Mina. A stunner, I soon found out that she had a bad reputation. When my best friend Deb came to know about our friendship, he warned me :

“That slut will be the cause of your ruin and damnation, you mind my words.” He blurted out furiously. As I was not really in a mood to be lectured at that time, I asked him to mind his own business thereby truncating our friendship for good!

I found myself irresistibly drawn to Mina. Besides her looks, she was intelligent, well-read and helpful beyond expectations. It was Mina who taught me a thing or two about life. It was Mina again who told me the story of that unforgettable love between a Nobel laureate and a prostitute.

“Ron, I’m thinking of coming over to your place tonight,” she told me over the phone on my twenty-seventh birthday. Other than my sister no one had called to wish me, cut off as I was in a remote place.

“Happy birthday, Ron.” She flashed her sparkling smile as I opened the door of my quarters.

“How…how did you know? I didn’t tell anybody!” I exclaimed, surprise writ large on my face.

“We live in a digital world, Dear,” was all I could get out of her.

That night she cooked a simple yet delicious meal for me. After dinner, as she sipped her glass of wine, she looked at me, from across the table, before saying :

“You’re my best buddy, Ron. I don’t know how I could’ve survived in a hostile place like this without you. Now I’ve something to reveal…” She halted as her eyes welled up before adding, “I don’t know why I’m fated to part with the people I hold close to my heart….. Anyway, I want you to remember me as the friend who introduced you to ‘The Prize’ and if our paths never cross again, lemme tell you that you mean the world to me….” she chirped as she kissed me lightly on the cheek before getting out of my place.

I came to know about her transfer order to the city only as we hit the road that led up to her rented cottage. The pain in my heart didn’t let me bid her a proper farewell that night. When I dropped by what used to be her residence the next day, she was already gone with bag and baggage!

***********************************************************

It was my sixty-first birthday. Tired of the world, with my marriage of over two decades having ended up in doldrums and my daughter looking upon me as a curse in her life, I retired to the seclusion of my ancestral home at 41, Deblane the night before. I wanted to spend it far from the madding crowd.

It was the most lifeless birthday ever with none to wish me, no cake to cut, no candles to be lit, no nothing! That was not the first time I learned the meaning of loneliness though. I had a quiet dinner ordered from outside, all by myself. I had barely eased myself under the blanket at around nine at night when my mobile beeped for the first time. The caller spoke hurriedly for my address. The incessant rain made it impossible for me to hear him clearly.

Yea, you must have guessed it right by now like I did on opening the door that night that it was none other than the delivery boy from Amazon, who must have left the packet out on the doorstep. One mystery solved thus, I addressed myself to resolving the next one.

Who could have sent me this book on my birthday? Other than

Mina, there was only one more person I had shared the story of “The Prize” with – my daughter, Anwesha. But she couldn’t have sent me this book when we two had been barely on speaking terms for so long!

Just then, my mobile beeped again and the first few lines of a message whatsapped to me, flashed on the screen. On pressing the number, there was this letter waiting for me :

Dear Baba,

It has taken me so long to find out why you raved about this book so much. Having gone through the book, I have come to respect this great lady, Minna. I have started looking at people like her from a completely different perspective altogether. 

I know now why you talked about the other Mina even after I got married. I sincerely hope that I can get to meet this great lady somewhere one day. I’ll thank her for being such a positive influence on you, on your life.

I am sending you the book that I tore into pieces soon after your separation from Ma. I hope you will forgive me for being the naive daughter I have always been.

Thank you, Baba, for wising me up on Love. Though I have realised it late, thank God for making me your daughter. Love you for being who you are.

Happy sixty-first and wishing you many more,

Yours,

P.S: Ma has invited me to her new home tomorrow. But I am not sure if I can make it. Love again.

The end