Magic of warmth


Tears rolled down his cheeks as he wept silently.

He realized, his daddy no longer loved him. His daddy was angry. His papa’s rolling big eyes, stubborn tough face showed him the terror. Little Piku knew he had done something that he always wanted to do and his parents have always restricted him to do. He was only two years old and only sometime ago he started running around. In his view their two bed room flat was not big enough. There were restriction too. There was one room that had been always restricted to him.

Little Piku never understood why that room was prohibited for him. He was allowed to peek inside the door while his parents worked inside. Whenever he tried to enter, either of his parents had prevented him or took him outside.

Running around, jumping on the chair or banging his tricycle against the wall were all allowed. Even relentless jumping on the bed and disturbing parents’ sleep in the morning was also allowed but not entering this room. He had climbed onto his small cupboard, he threw away mobile phones to his neighbor’s house, he pounced on his father’s laptop and taken out a key and was never rebuked so hard.

Piku never understood why access to that one room was prohibited for him. One day when his mother was sleeping in the afternoon, he got up early and tried to venture into this room. But his mama had kept the door closed. The latch was too tight for him to open. He tried hard but failed. Piku only wished he was stronger.

His parents called him a naughty boy so everyone else called him a naughty boy too. They never understood that boys were supposed to be like that – ever active, ever filled with energy, enthusiasm, joy. He also mastered some tricks to melt his angry parents. Just a tight hug, a light peck or a sweet sounding mama or papa would have been enough.

But nothing worked that day.

His papa was very angry with him and Piku really didn’t do much.

That day his papa forgot to close the door of that room tightly. Little Piku got a chance to sneak into the room when his papa was taking bath. Inside the room was a very different world. He silently pulled a small stool inside and tried climbing up when something fell down with a thud spilling his milk and breaking a glass.

His father was quick to come out of the bathroom and ran towards this room.

Yes, as a father I had to scold Piku hard that day because he had not only entered our kitchen but spilled the hot milk and could have met with a serious accident that we always feared.

When I came out after cleaning the kitchen, I saw him sitting silently on our bed. Face down, tears still rolling down his cheeks. He was really upset as I had never scolded him so hard before.

I went to him and gently took me on my lap. He started crying loudly on my shoulder while clinging onto my neck. The magic of warmth of his tender touch melted away all my anger.