Sunday Story- Flying High

Mr Malhotra had not spoken to her daughter, Shalini, even once during the last three years. The last conversation they had had revolved around Shalini’s decision to join the Indian Air Force and Mr Malhotra’s futile attempts to convince her out of it. The conversation had quickly escalated to a heated argument with both of them accusing the other of being egocentric and vowing to never talk to each other ever again. Inside, both of them hoped for their never again to end soon, but their egos came in the way. Days became weeks, weeks turned into months, and months spilled into years, but the silence didn’t break—until last week.

The day had been going like any other weekday when suddenly the doorbell rang. The ringing of the doorbell was a most peculiar event because the only time it rang was when a young boy named Shyam working at a nearby grocery store delivered a week’s worth of groceries on weekends. Upon answering it, to his surprise, Mr Malhotra found a postman holding a letter addressed to him. Confounded, he took it and traced his steps back to his study. He scrutinized the writings on the envelope as he sat down; an expression of shock spread across his visage—the letter had been sent from the Air Force Academy. 

Tears started streaming down his wrinkled face as he fumbled with the contents of the envelope—the comprised photographs of Shalini wearing her uniform, standing by her aircraft, with her friends, and a five-page letter addressed to her father. Eyes still brimming with pools of tears, Mr Malhotra started ingesting each and every word of the letter as if they were medicine for an illness he’d been suffering from for ages.

The letter acted as a sluice for all of Shalini’s pent up words; they flowed like an untamed river during monsoon. They recounted her anguish, her regret, her love for her father, and most important of all, her adventures at the AFA—her training, her experiences, her friends (and foes), her encounters with her heroes and mentors, and everything else that excited her about the IAF. She had clearly found her place.

As he progressed through the contents of the letter, it started dawning upon Mr Malhotra how much a thing of pride it actually was to see his daughter utilizing her knowledge and expertise to serve the armed forces, and how erroneous his views had been. Looking at the crucial role women played in the IAF, their inclusion in numbers seemed all the more imperative. His heart swelled with pride as he lived through his daughter’s experience through her words; it was the most elated he had felt. The best bit, though, was yet to come—a surprise had been waiting for him toward the end.

As Mr Malhotra started going through the last page of the letter, his eyes started widening with every successive word. The last page invited—rather ordered him to fly over to Hyderabad as soon as possible to attend Shalini’s graduation ceremony come what may. How could he even think of missing it? Shalini was going to graduate as an IAF pilot, top of her class. But most important of all, he was finally going to meet his darling daughter after what seemed like a lifetime.

After finishing the letter, Mr Malhotra clutched the letter tightly close to his heart and wept profusely. After coming back to his senses, he consulted the calendar to plan his journey. Just as he was going about the itinerary, the phone on his study table rang. As he placed the receiver close to his ear with trembling hands, he heard a voice his ears had ached to listen to utter timidly, “Papa?”

Liked the beautiful story? Read another one- 'Pride Sans Prejudice'.