AN- Hi! This little OS is based on a poem I recently read. It's named 'I ran into a stranger…' It's a very sentimental and emotional poem that makes a way straight to the heart. The idea isn't mine and totally based on the poem. I'm just remaking and expanding it the CID way.
This one is especially for iAndromeda. Sorry to keep you waiting for a long time. Hope you like this.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own CID or any of its characters. They belong to, you know whom.
The main character and the narrator of the story i.e. the mother is played by Ishita. She is, as we all know, a cop and married to Dushyant. (credit goes to Preetz) This couple has a very cute li'l six year old daughter named 'Swara', who happens to be the other central character of this OS. You may imagine the cute little Grace Girdhar as Swara.
§ ESPECIALLY THE BLUE §
That day I was in the market place shopping things of daily needs- veggies, fruits, grocery and an endless list of all other things. Looking at the overgrowing population of our country and considering the fact that Mumbai houses more people than any other city, I was not surprised to see the crowd. With two really heavy bags filled with stuff, a strident pain in my head and bearing the dirt and dust of the streets in the middle of the ever chaotic market, that was I. I was somehow trying to make my way through the crowd to the car where my loving husband was waiting for me after the days labored work. It was just then that I collided with a person, an unknown guy, a stranger.
"Oh! Excuse me please", I said with a sorry expression on my drained face. "I was in bit hurry. Sorry."
"Please excuse me too. I wasn't even watching for you. It was my mistake." came his quick and modest reply.
We exchanged assured smiles, bade a goodbye and went our ways. Superficially, it seems like another instance of social mannerism but it has much more to meaning, which we shall learn in the later part of the story.
At home a rather different story is told- How we behave towards our loved ones both young and old. Later that day, I was cooking the evening meal by the kitchen counter. I believed that Dushyant was with li'l Swara, helping her with the worksheets. I was very tired. Tired with the tedious work. I had checked for evidences with Nikhil in a big, old, uncanny factory, had interrogated a really stubborn and pigheaded female suspect and then had done the never ending paperwork. I had a feeling that someone was hammering, with obviously a hammer on my forehead. I was so keen at completing my work and engrossed in preparing the food that I hardly noticed small Swara had stood beside me, inanimately. I wanted to quickly finish the work for my family was hungry. I hastily turned around to grab a jar from the closets on the opposite side. As I turned around, I pushed Swara with force inadvertently and nearly knocked her down. She got misbalanced as she swung a little but was saved from falling as she had quickly grabbed the counter for support. I was really angry and deranged with the redundant disturbance.
"Move out of the way, Swara. " I shouted and said with a frown. "Don't you see I'm working. What are you doing here? Go to papa, quick."
She stood there wanting to say something. But I started shouting at her.
"Didn't you hear what I said? Swara, Go and complete your homework. And don't disturb me."
Swara was very disappointed by my unpleasant words. Her face that beamed with joy and eyes that shone with affection a few moments ago contorted into pale and sad expressions both of which went unnoticed by me. She quietly turned and walked away dejected with her little heart broken by my unkind, obnoxious words. I failed to realize then that I had spoken to her callously.
After finishing the dinner and clearing the mess and calling it a day, I was laying in my bed, awake. I was recalling the day's happenings. It was just then that a profound, deep and serious voice, which seemed to be like the God's voice came to me. It was my inner self, conscience talking to me.
"Common courtesy, indeed a very heavy word and manner to follow, is used by you while dealing with a stranger. But you seem to abuse and scoff at the children you love and pamper."
I felt ashamed as the day's two different incidents- one at the market and other in the kitchen flashed in front of my eyes. The way how I reacted with the stranger and the other way I shouted at my daughter started making appearances in my head. The Godly voice had revealed to me the bitter truth. It continued…
"Go and look on the kitchen floor. You'll find some flowers by the door. Those are the flowers that little Swara had brought for you."
I quickly ran to the kitchen like a mad woman to witness the sight that made me distressed and pinched my heart for there lied little, small, pretty flowers alike my daughter by the door. I bent down and collected all the flowers and held them by my chest and closed my eyes as I drowned in self-hatred and guilt. My reminiscence was broken by the God's voice that again made its presence…
"She picked all of them herself- the pink, yellow and the blue. She stood in the kitchen quietly behind you not to spoil the surprise. She wanted to make you happy but you did the other way round. And pity is that you didn't even notice the tear in her big brown eyes."
By this time I felt very small. I felt wretchedly bad and miserable that my unthoughtful harsh words had hurt my beatific and chubby daughter. Swara's insipid and pale face kept appearing in my mind. My eyes gleamed tremulously with tears. I stood up and quietly went to Swara. She lay there snuggled on the bed beside Dushyant in her floral night dress quietly. A tint of sadness was visible on her dainty and tender features. She was hurt. Dushyant was patting her forehead. I knelt down by her side and gently running my palm on her cheek called her,
"Wake up, Swaru, wake up."
She opened her eyes that looked so distressed.
"Are these the flowers that you picked for me?" I asked showing her the flowers that I collected from the kitchen.
She saw the flowers and beamed blissfully. She quickly rose from bed and crawled into my arms hastily.
"I found them," she said "out by the big tree in the play ground this evening. I picked them up because they were so pretty, just like you. I knew you would like them Mumma , especially the blue." She said with a cheerful face that made her look enthrallingly graceful.
I couldn't resist the fresh tears that glistened in my eyes. I cupped her face and moved my hand through the stray strand of her hairs with all affection and care."Swaru, I'm sorry baccha for the way I acted today; I shouldn't have yelled at you that way." I apologized to her holding my ears.
"Oh, Mumma! That's Okay." She said innocently without any qualms, " I love you anyway." She smiled tilting her head and pecked a kiss on my cheek.
"I love you too, Swaru", I said while returning the honor and embracing her close to me
"And I do liked the flowers," I said in her ear, "especially the blue."
AN- When I had read this poem, I felt very emotional and disturbed. This is a matter of common observation that we are sometimes unnecessarily harsh towards our own loved ones. It is true that they are the people with whom we may fight and quarrel. After all we cannot shout at unknown people. But this does not imply that we behave anyway and yell at them. Sometimes we don't even remotely realize that our actions and harsh words hurt them. If we can use courtesy while dealing with strangers, I find no reason why we shouldn't use it with our people. These are the people our life depends on. So we must ensure that no action of ours hurt them. And the small children around us are so innocent; they don't keep dwelling on a thing for long time. But they definitely are distressed by our unkind behavior, though it is unintentional. We must care for our people and their feelings.
So, how was the story? This happens to be my first story here. I hope this wasn't disappointing. I was a reader of the stories here from quite a long time now and have read some really fantastic stories and came across lovely people. Thanks to them and their stories that gave me a brainwave to write.
Thanks for reading. Do drop me a review, both positive and negative (constructive criticism). I am very eager about the reception of the story. Looking forward for an awesome time here at FF.
THANK YOU.