“Not possible” , the little lady of the house screamed.
“Awww, don’t be like that. I said I’m sorry na” . The power of apologies never ceased to amaze me. I hoped against hope to salvage the situation at hand.
“NO. No means no. Not Possible. N O T “, the little one took a deep breath and gasped out ” Possible”.
And that was that. Set in her ways and nothing that I could say or do would change her mind from that point on. Not possible were the words that I got introduced to that day. A little girl of seven, a little knowledge of newly acquired words, and it left me beaten and amused. The tiny voice of my little one, carrying them words with a fanatic like conviction. It was a day of new memories being forged. It was a beautiful chapter between two friends, between a father and his princess. Not possible, there are days where I still reminisce over it and smile.
The words were there to stay. The early years were adorably cute when she’d find the opportune moments to express her favourite words. Not possible had become her favourite response in time. Those mornings when she lacked the motivation and the drive to get out of the bed and go to school, the words made a cute appearance. ” Not possible daddy , I have a FEBER today “, she’d reason with me.
The park by the house was her playground. She loved hanging upside down by this tree’s branches. The evenings when the sun went down leaving behind a soft subtle sliver of orange streaks of light, I’d patiently look to her and ask her to get down. ” It’s time to go home now darling “, I’d appeal to her.
“Not possible ,pa”, she’d protest. “5 minutes”, she’d negotiate. She’d carefully hold on to my index finger as we both walked back home counting stars and gazing at the jealous moon.
As she grew a little more older, she was embarrassed by the same words which were her only vocabulary for the longest time! She was too cool to use those words. “I want that cycle!!!! all my friends have that.. please please please get me that one, appa”, she’d negotiate with me over the dinner table.
“Not possible princess“, I’d tease her. “NO. No means no. Not Possible sweetheart”, I’d say. It was a beautiful sight to watch her soft gentle face turn fierce. I never imagined how cute a frown managed to look on her. I’d silently grin a thankful grin for the gift that she was in our lives.
The age old trick of misdirection did work like a charm. Her smiles on her birthday on seeing her brand new bicycle were worth the trouble of trolling and tormenting her.
“Thank you thank you thank you sooooo much. I love you papa”, she said and hugged me tight. It was the time when my little girl earned her tiny wings. She was all set to fly free in this vast wide world. Her step towards independence. The big , rather not so big, gap between a father and his daughter was taking shape. I was no longer her entire world. I was still a significant part of it. Her world had just expanded.
The years rolled and the way we stayed in touch changed. ” When will you be home?” , the phone read. I replied back saying that I’d be late and told her I was sorry that we couldn’t catch up on the movie that she was so excited about for a long long time. “I promise”, I replied. “We’ll watch it this Saturday”.
“Not possible”, was the message that I received. The airhostess instructed us to turn off our phones.
I walked in home late that night. I found her sleeping on the couch wrapped in her like blue duvet. I gently kissed her forehead and let her sleep. I switched the television off and wondered the choices that I had made over work. It was for her, I reminded myself. Money , the killer of dreams and the founding stone of many other dreams. I secretly promised myself to make it up to her.
And so as we hugged today, I couldn’t help but wonder about the beautiful journey of life as witnessed by those two words. My little one was dressed in red. All set to start a life of her own. “Don’t forget your dad baba”, I told her as we embraced.
“Not possible daddy”, her voice trembled as tears completed that sentence.
I wished her luck. Prayed for her happiness. She was all set to start a new chapter in her life. Vishal was not a bad kid. They both were friends for a while. I wasn’t surprised when they let me in on their thoughts.
I looked towards the heavens and left my wife a little smile. She’d have been proud. She would have loved to watch both of us grow through the years.