A Divine Intervention

This is a story of a girl who grew up in a different time when little girls were made of sugar & spice and everything nice, now we live in a unisex world.

It was a time when fairy tales were made of fairies and dwarfs, wicked stepmothers, and handsome princes, she loved to read and sing and went to sleep everyday snuggling up to the warm smell of her grandmother in her nose, the smell of love, affection and that sense of belonging no perfumer can create. Her name is not important, she is the little girl we all women cherish and nourish in our hearts no matter how old we are. This is her story and how she got her prince charming and lived happily for 50 years.

Father was the head of the family, his words were law, and no one had the courage to refute or disobey. In his little kingdom, he ruled with an iron hand, for mother, the sun rose and set when he went to work and returned home in the evenings. Life was simple, new clothes and shoes were distributed during the festivals and had to be made done till the next season. Everyone learned to share and live harmoniously with only the bare necessities.

For her life was fine till she turned twenty, though there were streaks of rebellion in her, it was immediately curtailed by mother and granny before father got the slightest hint of it. Her diary knew she craved for independence, to be her own mistress, to sing loudly on the roof of her house, to go to matinee shows of her favourite hero with college friends, to roam in the markets alone inhaling the smells and looking and marveling at things she could never possess, to talk to the boy next door who she knew was her secret admirer. But father was the witch who prisoned Rapunzel in a tower, and she longed for the outside world which she could see only from a small window from the tower.

After finishing school and college she secretly kept applying for a job, which would give her freedom and a sense of accomplishment, how she was going to convince Father she did not know, “ will cross that bridge when I have to “ she consoled herself. Her dream was realized one fine day when a residential school in a small sleepy hill town far away from her home asked her to join as their music teacher. How she managed to pass the interviews without the knowledge of her family is another story, not relevant here, but her tenacity and craving for freedom and independence got her through and she was going to give all her might and take the bull by its horns.

NO --- NEVER was the first reaction from father, when she placed the appointment letter on his desk with trembling fingers and dryness in her throat that would not be quenched by all the oceans and seas on this planet. The dismissal from Father was enough to send others running for shelter, but she adamantly stood with a lowered head and two rivers flowing from each of her eyes. An eon of time passed between a NO and an exasperating YES from Father, she was given permission to go on the condition that she would return the day a suitable boy was selected and finalized for her to get married.

The unbelievable happened, she was ready to sell her soul to the devil to get her way and wish, this was cakewalk compared to it. Marriages during that era were only settled and arranged after a million words and negotiations, so she knew she had enough time to live her dream life and gather memories to last a thousand lives. She would have agreed to any condition as long as she was permitted to go and live a life of freedom. A few days or months of a carefree life would be enough for her to cherish for the rest of her life, a small window in her heart which she would open and reminiscence during her impending life of a wife, daughter in law and a mother.

Departure day was a helter skelter of chaos, everyone trying to stuff one more item into her already overflowing bag, mother and grandmother packing the last minute goodies, pickles, and preserves lest she die of hunger away from home and no one to pester and pamper her to have one more bite. Anyhow, the train was boarded, goodbyes said, a lump rose in her throat as she watched the faces of her family fading away, but the excitement of the unknown ahead gave her the courage to gulp the sadness away and enjoy the world passing by her train window.

She settled well in her new surroundings, with fellow teachers, students, her hostel roommates, and the first couple of days passed like a dream. Her exuberance, friendliness, happy go lucky stance made her an immediate hit with all. Every day before going to bed she wrote the events of the day in a long letter to her grandmother as promised. After the first few days, she noticed that the only person who was oblivious to her existence was the Vice-Principal, a young nerd with thick glasses and as colourless as the subject he taught to the senior classes, Maths, and Statistics. The subjects both of them taught were also the complete opposite of a spectrum, she gave the students a smile, while he a frown, her subject was easy to understand, his required attention of all the cells in one’s brain. But being the Vice-Principal, events, and programs in the school had to be planned with him, and all her queries, suggestions, and ideas were answered with a grunt or a dismissal nod, she came to know from the next day's bulletin board whether her plans passed his scrutiny or rejected.

One rainy afternoon, she was caught unawares by a sudden shower on her way to class from her hostel which was a 5 minutes walk under a row of Gulmohar and casuarinas. She took shelter under a Gulmohar to let the rain pass, as she was not carrying an umbrella. Just then Mr. Vice- Principal came into sight rushing to take his class, but fortunately, he was carrying a large black umbrella. Without thinking twice, she ran under his umbrella and said she had to reach the school building to take her class, making him jump out of his skin.

A million emotions passed over his face in a jiffy, surprise, embarrassment, shyness, and maybe a little bit of pleasure, his fair complexion turned beetroot red, they walked those 2 – 3 minutes in utter silence till they reached the school building, and she left his side as fast as she had entered it. Later he confessed that, that was the day and moment when she walked not only into his umbrella but also into his heart.

Gradually she noticed that he was a silent spectator during her programs, sometimes caught him standing outside her class, but the moment she could acknowledge his presence he was gone. Not only did she notice this quiet fan following, so did her colleagues and she became the victim of continuous leg pullings by them. Though she enjoyed the silent attention and admiration, she knew she could not indulge him or her own feelings as it would never culminate into anything permanent, inter-cultural marriages were quite unheard of in those days, and families were much more conservative and her father more so.

Life settled into a pleasant easy routine, and before she could complete a year, she was summoned home, her marriage was settled, she was only required to go home meet the prospective in-laws and groom and give her consent. She was given instructions to resign, pack her bags and return home to get married in about one month's time. The next month she was required to prepare herself to become a good wife, daughter- in – law and learn all the arts and tricks to do so from mother and granny. Bags were packed, tearful goodbyes said with promises to keep in touch through letters, she boarded a train for home for good. Just as the train was leaving the station, she glimpsed a familiar face pushing the crowd trying to reach the departing train, her heart missed a beat she tried to call his name but no words came out from her dry mouth, he just reached her window seconds before the trained gathered speed and she was unable to hear the words he tried to say, she conceded to the fact that this was how far the silent love story would go, there was a feeling of sadness, a loss she could not quite explain, a numb pain that spread slowly bringing tears in her eyes, she whispered to her heart, “ this is fate and I have no control over it .“

Home was in a total frenzy in preparation of the wedding, the chaos and bedlam gave her little time to reminiscence about the small part of her heart that she left in the sleepy little town. Just about a week before the wedding, a huge turmoil left her totally perplexed and stunned, Mr. Vice -Principal was standing in her drawing room with his mother asking her father for her hand and blessings. Resolved to the fact that he was a confirmed bachelor, his mother was ready to welcome any girl who could shake off his determination, for her the girl had to be someone very special to be able to accomplish the unthinkable and she was eager to welcome her with open arms and shower her with the love and adulation. But Father send them off with a vehement NO, invitations were out, at this stage a marriage could be canceled only if someone passed away in either of the two families. Moreover, there was no question of marriage to a boy belonging to a different community. Her father bombarded her with a string of angry questions and would not believe that there was literally no involvement from her side in this nearly one-sided love story.

She passed the next two days in incognito, she did not want to come face to face with Father and be bombarded with questions to which she had no answers and was trying to figure them out herself. Preparations of the wedding were in full swing, relatives and friends started to arrive from all over, being summer, the open terrace was used for sleeping and merriment that went on till late of the night. Relatives catching up with one another, new acquaintances and relations being made, in all this mayhem the bride herself somehow could not participate with her heart and soul, a numb pain was persisting at the base of her throat.

The climax took place 3 days before the wedding, after all the fun and frolic the night before everyone was sleeping on the makeshift sleeping arrangements on the terrace. Father was a disciple of Sai Baba a saint worshipped by millions who followed his teachings even after more than 100 years of his passing. It was a daily ritual for Father to chant Sanskrit slokas before sunrise in his very deep voice that resonated throughout the house, that day the chanting came to a halt in the midway, in the morning quite Fathers steps could be heard even from the terrace walking towards the main gate, that had been knocked by someone in those eerie hours. The door was unlatched and muffled words were heard being exchanged between Father and the person on the other side of the door.

A few seconds of uncanny silence was followed by Father trying to call Mother in a hoarse, stunned voice , like someone who had come face to face with a tiger and had lost his ability to speak or shout. Various illegible sounds were coming out of his mouth and it took a while to fathom what he was trying to say. At last, after minutes of stuttering and stammering what could finally be divulged was that when he opened the door, lo and behold Sai Baba was standing right in front of him, who smiled, raised his hands and said just these 4 words ‘ Vice- Principal is the groom ‘ and then disappeared in a blink of an eye.

The girl in my story did get married to Vice -Principal on the pre -fixed auspicious day and time. Are marriages made in heaven? I was not sure, but hearing this story from the girl herself, I believe that magical things do happen sometimes. She spent a full 50 years with Vice-principal, went through the roller coaster ride of married life, sometimes blissful, sometimes challenging, Half a century of togetherness came to a halt when one of them said adieu to life, and someday I know that they will meet again.

Wait a minute, was that Mr. Vice- Principal disguised as Sai Baba to make a last-minute effort to get his bride? I would like to believe it was a miracle, atheists and skeptics are welcome to believe that it was Mr. Vice- Principal, whichever is true it did have the fairy tale ending that she read as a little girl.