The Mist

 

I like to get up with the sunrise so I can feel the morning mist. Strolling in our beautiful garden, I gently touched the flowers and leaves. Lowering my head, I snuggled my nose in the flowers, took a deep breath, and let the dew bathe my face. The feeling was simply amazing! In the first rays of the sun, the dew shone as if they were crystal clear diamonds.

 

The mist and I have been friends forever. I talk to them…a lot. As the sun rises and till the dew drops dry away, they listen to me and my singing. The mist in my life wasn’t only in the greenery of our garden, but also in my eyes. From birth, my vision was extremely less, you could say, it was as good as no sight at all. Everything seemed so dim and blurry, I was mostly dependent on my sense of touch and hearing.

 

“Which morning is it, when my daughter¬† doesn’t wake up early?”

I was so lost in myself that I failed to realize, papa had ambled in the garden, and while he put his arm around my shoulder, I sensed a deep emotional vibe passing between us. I smiled and said softly,

“You know I want to feel the mist. If I get up late, then I’m sure to miss it, right?”

He bopped my nose and jested,

“You and your mist!”

Papa chuckled, but soon his breath was caught and he began to cough. His wheezing and breathlessness had aggravated quite alarmingly. Rubbing his back, I asked with concern,

“Papa, should I get some water for you?”

Shaking his head, he refused and tried to compose himself before saying,

“No dear, thank you. Nayantara, if God wills, the mist from my daughter’s eyes will soon be gone and the garden mist will be visible to you more clearly.”

His remark astonished me and I squealed out my curiosity.

“Really papa! What are you saying! But how? You told me that my blood type is rare and……”

The air in my lungs stalled as I waited for his answer. Papa wrapped me in his arms and said,

“Yes darling, don’t worry. All that will be taken care of.”

 

Today, it’s been three months since he passed away. Nevertheless, he is still there with me. I especially feel him within me, because now, I see the world through his eyes.

 

Shamim Merchant,