It was a crisp morning . Last night's howling winds had not entirely died down , so occasionally , small eddies caught her unawares , and whipped Dolly's long hair around . Some strands got caught in her mouth and came away , saliva streaked .
Freeing some gooey strands from her cheek's surface , I found the opportunity to continue with my homily " See this is why you should let me tie your hair, and keep your mouth closed ."
This habit of mine drove her father nuts . "Oh shut up , for heaven's sake ! " He would bellow from the driver's seat . "Let the child be ".
Dolly was adamant . No combing of hair , and no shutting of mouth .
It was cold . I shivered . Sun had begun peeking from behind banks of spent clouds . But the wind didn't let up. There was warm toast and eggs in my belly , and I could still taste coffee in my mouth . Dolly too had her share of toast . But she was still hungry . "How can you say such a thing ?" Kami ,her sister , would ask . Her doubts piercing the dusty wool of "motherhood " I always tired to pull over her eyes .I know because I can hear the faint grumbling in her tummy . I know because she hasn't had her fill at the table . I know because I am her mother . " Humph !" I can see her sister marching away .
"You should let her go hungry ." Dolly's father would say . "Only then will she appreciate the value of food." Sage advise . Everyone nodded their collective heads , including my elder one , yolk dripping from his mouth , as he chomped on his fifth egg. Easier said than done . They have not been mothers . A mother fighting against the whole world trying to bracket your child into "retard" and "goner" slots . I felt sudden stinging of tears . Hot and burning . "You should be tough. Only tough mothers can raise kids like yours . You are too weak . Emotional. Gullible." Harsh words spoken long ago , swirled with the cold wind . I let my tears flow . Stood at the roadside and blew my nose .
Dolly stood too. Grabbing my hand with stubby fingers , she gently jerked my hand . That was her way of telling me "everything is gonna be alright ." I looked down at her . Spittle flew from her open mouth , as she looked up in consternation . The wind blew the spittle into streaks on her cheeks . I dabbed at her cheeks with my tear stained hanky , she gave an open mouthed smile . People walked past , without even noticing us . I suddenly swooped her into my arms and took her into my lap . She loved it and cackled loudly .
Some people turned back , from their fast lives , cushioned existences , unseeing eyes and unfeeling hearts . Looked at me , and Dolly , gave quizzical, judging looks . But we continued laughing . Me and my baby . Both misfits , imperfects .
We crossed an eatery . It was morning . Hot samosas were being fried in a wok full of iffy oil . Suddenly Dolly stopped . She too had smelt fragrant samosas .
"I want " She said , pointing towards the glass enclosed rack full of the savoury goodies.
"You want samosa ?" I spoke unnecessarily.
Dolly nodded , taking my three middle fingers and trying to braid them with both her hands , That was her way of saying "Please". She was staring at the halwai and her spittle ran free . The halwai smiled at her , she smiled back . I had no choice . These were the first words she had spoken since morning . It had to be celebrated .
As I took the greasy paper plate back to her , She had found a worn out concrete step , entrance to someone's house . She was swinging her legs , another sign of joy and anticipation .
So we sat there , in the dusty shade of someone's home , eating forbidden food . I can hear my sister say " You bought her what ??" Wiping her greasy fingers off on her saliva streaked pink frock , my baby says , hesitantly , "I want . One more."
