He sank on his knees and tried to see her face; but she hid it, and said nothing. He must have done something wrong. He never knew when it came to moments like this. He sometimes thinks that he doesn’t know her at all; maybe they aren’t even related– how could they be when they’re wired so different.
She loved maths, he poetry; she would do anything to avoid people, he loved people– hosting, courting, teasing, the entire gambit. She could spend hours getting one thing right, while he could get tired of anything within a matter of minutes, no matter how interesting. He loved to cook and eat; she would live on fluids if she could. He could go on.
But he knew they had one thing in common: they both missed Geeta- her mom, his wife. She was better with Nina. She knew how to help Nina get to stop worrying about the tiny details. She knew how to get Nina to pay attention to what she eats. Most of all, she knew how to get Nina to feel seen and loved and understood.
Nina probably didn’t respond to him because she knew deep in her heart that he was only paying attention to her because Geeta was no longer with them. He felt guilty, responsible, concerned even– but it wasn’t love. Yes, he loved her like a daughter because she was his daughter after all. But he didn't know her. He couldn’t tell you what he loved about her or that he would still love her if she wasn’t her daughter. And for some reason “being loved for who she was” seemed to matter to this child.
There were parents who got away with way less. Up until this moment Prakash got away with way less; he had never felt ‘inadequate’ as a man, a husband, or a father. He provided for the family, he ‘loved’ them the best he knew how, and by any standard, he did better than most fathers he knew, especially his own. No, he didn’t want a reward– he simply didn’t want to be in this position now.
Maybe he could call his mom? Maybe he could call Geeta’s mom? Nina was old enough to go live with either set of grandparents for a few months too. Would she feel like he was taking the easy way out? What would Geeta do, if it were Prakash that died in the accident? Well, for starters, she would still be mourning– it hasn't been all that long. Nina would probably be consoling her like she always seemed to and not the other way round. Maybe in the last few years Nina had grown up so much that she was no longer a child– not one he recognised in any case. He left for his room.
After a good couple hours, he returned to Nina with a journal he kept over twenty years ago, when he first met Geeta. He used to find her odd too. He sank back on his knees, cleared his voice, and said, “it took me over four years to understand that she laughs when she is awkward and stares when she is happy. I hope it won’t take me that long to understand you. I am sorry I haven’t tried before.”
Nina burst into tears. She no longer hid her face though.
