I was sitting by myself on the metro in the women's only coach on a long ride this morning heading to my sister-in-law's place for Easter lunch. I was thinking about what Easter meant to me this year since I had struggled so much with numerous thoughts, philosophies and questions about life, meaning, purpose and pretty much everything of importance under the sun.
And then a young girl-child of maybe 3 or 4 years old caught my eye. She was accompanied by three women, of whom the youngest seemed definitely to be her mother. The women sat while the kid held on to one of the poles in the metro and went round and round it, beginning at a slow speed till suddenly she was almost flying around it. Every time she started making other passengers uncomfortable, her mother would grab her and hold her for a bit. There was nothing out-rightly cute about the child's face or attire and yet her expressions were so vivid and spoke volumes. Her head was clean shaven or buzzed and she wore a cap that overshadowed her eyes a little. Looking at the way the three women interacted with her, I knew that they loved her deeply. In fact, she seemed to know it too. This gave her the confidence to be carefree and move around the metro with ease and yet she didn't stray too far away from them.
However, at one point, she insisted on climbing up on to the seat and while up there, began to make a bit of a nuisance of herself. Yes, the ride was long and the women had been patient but at that moment when the child almost seemed uncontrollable and spoilt, the mother grabbed her with a strong hand, set her down and shook her with a stern look of warning. Nothing was said. It all happened so quickly. I almost gasped with surprise. The child immediately edged away from her mother and the other two older seemingly kindhearted women and toward the pole at the center of the coach. She pulled her cap down to cover her eyes completely and cried softly. I saw tears run down her determined cheeks. Her pain at being reprimanded was extremely obvious to all but she didn't want her mother, the other two women and the rest of us riding along to know how much it hurt.
All of us kept our eyes glued to her face with an occasional glance at each other. We tried to bend and peep into that little teary face but she didn't meet our eyes. When our hands reached out to touch her, she shied away. It was then that I lifted my eyes to observe the young mother who had tried to discipline her and saw that she didn't take her eyes of her little girl. The mother, however, didn't move and instead allowed her to cry, softly as she was. Eventually, the child began wiping her tears and then the cap was pushed up a little bit by one tiny hand, and the eye lids lifted allowing her to look around at all our staring faces till she reached her mother's face. Then her mother smiled a little. The child grimaced. The mother's smile widened and the child's feet shuffled. The mother finally reached out her hand and beckoned to her daughter to come to her. The little one hesitated for a moment and then moved quietly towards her mother. She touched the extended hand, then clung on to it and slowly laid her head to rest on her lap. The mother kissed the child and wrapped her arms around her.
The rest of us heaved a sigh of relief almost in unison and smiled at each other. I felt tears stinging somewhere at the back of my eyelids. In a moment or so our train pulled into a station and the three women plus the little shaven-head girl with a dress and her wee cap got up to leave. I managed to gently pat the child as she happily de-boarded from the train. I saw a complete story of love, disobedience, punishment, pain and reconciliation unravel before my eyes. It reminded me of the larger-than-life story of humanity. It also reminded me of the story of Easter. 'Reconciliation' was the word that arose and took it's place in me.
