TRUTH OF LIFE

Mishra Ji is the most popular priest in the colony, because he does rituals for the poor too. He doesn't accept a coin from them.

That day, Mishra Ji's daughter, Rittika, was getting married. He was happy but his instants of joys were interrupted by impulses of sadness as he sat infront of his wife's photograph. He moved his fingers over the photo as if he could feel her, and tears rolled down his face. Rittika was not just his daughter, but, she was like a mother to him. From breakfasts to medicine, she took care of everything. Now, she is leaving, and Mishra Ji felt strange.

But he must tell her the truth now. He is already in his late sixties. God may send his messenger anytime soon. Anyway, he was contented with his life. He has got the best of joys, and a beautiful angel in Rittika. 

But, how shall he approach her?

If she breaks down?

If she never forgave him?

How will he live his remaining days with her anger?

It was his fear of letting her go that he did not disclose this to her.

But this wasn't the time to think for himself. She deserved to know. Mishra Ji kept the photograph on the table. He was beginning to stand up when Rittika entered the room.

"Papa, what are you doing here? My friends wish to greet you. And uncle has arrived. He looks superb!"

Saying this, she heartily laughed. She was happy.

"Beta", Mishra Ji uttered.

"Yes, Papa. Are you feeling okay? Ah! Do not tell me you forgot the meds."

"No, Beta. I am fine. I need to tell you something."

"Papa, I know. Every father speaks to his girl before the marriage. You've already told me those ideal advice. You worry so much."

Rittika's joys made things difficult for Mishra Ji. He simply smiled.

"Ok. Let's go now. They are waiting." Rittika was in a hurry.

Mishra Ji chose not to speak. But then...
"Beta, listen to me once. It is important." insisted Mishra Ji with a voice of reluctance.

Rittika paused. This did not seem the usual talk.

"Yes, Papa." She held his hands.

"Beta, this is one thing I have been trying to tell you since long. But I hope today is the time to speak the truth to you. You deserve to know."

"Yes, Papa."

"Beta...you are not our biological daughter. You were adopted. But, I promise this adoption never came in the way of loving you more than my daughter. I know you must be..."Mishra Ji could not complete his words and broke down.

"Papa," Rittika said in a calm tone,"I know that." And she smiled.

Mishra Ji was shocked. He just looked at Rittika and spoke nothing.

"Papa, Maa told me on her deathbed. She asked me to look after you and never to let you know that I know this."

Mishra Ji listened.

"I have never felt anything different from being your daughter, Papa. In fact, I am fortunate to get someone like you and Mom. The adoption is only a piece of paper for me, nothing else. Your parenthood is more than anything I know. I love you both, and I am your daughter. There is no alternate truth in that."

Mishra Ji felt like salvation. He felt proud of his little girl.

"So, now, Pundit Ji" Rittka said cheerfully, "You set aside these stupid thoughts because Ballu has already started stealing the ladoos from the kitchen. Aunt Misi is troubling the cooks for not putting extra flour in those bhatures, and I am going mad at Simpi for not bringing my earrings on time. You have a hell lot to catch up with."

Mishra Ji hugged his daughter.

He adjusted his dhoti and shouted,"Ballu. I will lock you up in the store if you do not stop stealing."

Notes (for non-native speakers): 

1. ladoo: round Indian sweet made with various ingredients.

2. dhoti: a white piece of Indian wear for men, used to drape around the body down from waist to legs.

3. bhature: flour made round flat pieces, oil fried.