Little Princess's Kingdom

1

“A tale of magic, a tale of love

As stars shoot from up above.

Kings, Queens, Jacks and Knights

Which one is it tonight?”

“No dear not today. Papa is really exhausted. There was soo much work today you know..”

“But every night you tell me stories. Did I not sing it right?”

“No dear you did it soo perfectly. Each day you sound sweeter and more soothing. I love you!” he kissed her on her head.

“No! You have to. I want to listen.. I.. I cleaned up the dining area all by myself today in the evening, without you telling me to…”

“You did? Oh wow! I was wondering how come the table, the chairs and the shelf was shining. Then I thought who could have done such magic?”

He loved watching this jingling smile on her beautiful face; a coy simper with a bit of blush on her cheeks, a mischievousness sneak. Divine!

“We’ll go for ice-cream tomorrow. Its a treat. Deal?”

“Okay.. Now tell me a story of my princess..”

She had always been clever. Now he’ll have to take her to ice-cream and tell a story.

“I am out of one right now darling. What would I tell you?”

“Recall something na..”

“Okay let me think it through the night, I tell you one tomorrow..”

“Okay then, I will be awake all night until you tell me a story.”

Damn. It’s hard to bargain with her.

“Okay, okay! So once upon a time there was a man named Aman who encountered a talking tree in the middle…”

“Nooo..”

“What?”

“Not this one! I told you. The One with Princess Meera!”

“Hmm..” Rishabh fell silent. It was obvious that she loved the stories about Princess Meera. Which one of her tales would be this time?

It was hard for Rishabh to find new stories to tell everyday. Well, it had been a challenge since the beginning. The bedtime stories started around six months back.

She hurriedly completed her homework, as dinner was on the table. Rishabh called out for the fourth time. She knew her father was furious.

“Coming!”

As she rushed down the stairs, she slipped and came tumbling down. Rishabh was scared to death seeing his daughter fall. Immediately he succumbed to the idea of god and prayed as he rushed towards his daughter. He took her into his arms, he pulled her head closer to his chest.

“Where does it hurt?”

“On my forehead…” and with these words her cry trailed.

“You are a strong girl! It was just a little bump. You’ll be fine!” but consolations did not help, even for him.

“Hey… You completed your homework so early? You are such a smart girl! Would you come on an ice-cream date with your dad? After dinner?”

“Can I wear my red dress and tiara to it?” she said in two-word phrases with teary eyes.

“Anything princess…”

The crying eased. There were sobs, but she was smiling again.

“Then its a date!” She got up and sat on the chair. Her head was still hurting. Occasionally she pressed her head where it bumped. A soul cried with tears, another wept at heart.

That night, Rishabh told his daughter a story about a princess, who eventually became her favorite character. After that day, the bed time stories became a daily thing. Every night he told her stories about the Indian mythology, Greek gods, Panchatantra tales, but every time she used to insist on listening to more of Princess Meera.

It was the spring season. Rishikesh and Meera were walking through the kingdom of Mayurvan. It was the first time they were meeting together alone, like on a date. Both were dressed as commoners to avoid attention. They did not know much about each other. And so they talked for hours! After a long while they realised that they had walked for a few kilometers. The clouds were waving a goodbye to the falling sun. They looked at each other and smiled. They knew they had to head back to their kingdoms before dark.

“When will we meet again prince?”

“Soon. How about a week from today?” The princess stepped onto her horse.

“Sounds lovely. I have something for you. I have prepared it myself! I’ll bring it the next time we meet.”

“But I don’t know anything to give you back. What do you want? Just ask!”

“Anything?”

“Yes anything. Oh princess, you know I can fight the Sun for you!”

“Okay. I want a kettle, teapot, molded by you.”

“But I don’t know pottery or moulding. How would I?”

“So do you want to fight the Sun?” she winked and departed on her way.

The prince was challenged. But he knew it would never be easy to please her.

“You don’t know it yet Meera..” he smirked.

2

“So? Story papa..!”

“First get into bed and let me tug you into your blanket.”

“Yipe!” she ran hurriedly and jumped on her bed. Where does she get all this energy?

“So.. Hmm.. You remember how Princess Meera met Prince Rishikesh right?”

“Yes! He was reading something from his book to the river, to calm her down, and the princess was listening secretly from…”

“Yeah.. So do you want to listen to that poetry that he said?”

“Yes!” she was glowing with liveliness and excitement.

“Okay.. I might have written it somewhere..”

He turned his head, and with his hand resting on his right thigh he pushed himself up. It was taking a lot of effort for him to get up. He tried it a second time. Just as he was about to push himself, she got out of bed and ran to the next room. He wanted to scold her but before he could yell anything, she returned giggling.

“Here!” she gushed, and handed over the diary to Rishabh. As he was turning pages, searching, she was wrapped back again into her blanket.

“Okay.. So I begin..

A princess she is, the best I know

With a tiara on her head.

She makes her braids, and flaunts her charm

When she wears red!”

He paused for a moment and looked at her. That smile! ‘My princess..’ he exclaimed.

“Every night I tell you tales

Where gods are born and love prevails.

There is a girl, just like you

For all these nights that I’m awake.

She flows along her brooks and streams

We talk in silence and meet in dreams.

Reflects upon her, unaware

A distinct crescent lover gleams.

What could I say about her eyes?

The night sings her lullabies.

While I could be, in realm of love

Where voices tremble and words defy.

And your waters are lit by stars

As your whispers soothe the heart.

While you live in a world afar

I close my eyes and there you are.

Is it love? Or it’s just me?

Is she, just like, what I see?

Under the blanket of my night

Will her touch I ever feel?

Oh my love, my life, I’ll every night

Come back to you from afterlife…”

He stopped. There was silence. She was asleep. He got up with all his effort, and kissed her on her head.

“ Goodnight princess.”

As he descended the flight of stairs, he slipped and came falling down. It was a few seconds after which he felt the hit on his head. Somehow he lifted himself up, but getting up was a struggle. He dragged himself to the corner of the dining table and pulled himself up. He massaged the area where it hurt. It felt a little better. As he was trying to relax on the chair, his eyes stuck to the bottle of Scotch. But it was not the first thing he saw.

Looking at the kettle resting on the colonial wall shelf made him relive his past. A faint but bitter smile appeared for a while. He became a boy again, stalking the girl in his class he has a crush on, secretly hoping but avoiding an eye contact. He became a man, taking vows with the love of his life. He became a father, and fell in love again with the girl crying horribly in his hands.

His eyes were still on the kettle. A tear was about to escape from the eyes that had prisoned his past for so long.

He got up and smacked the kettle. But he did not even look at the kettle breaking, scattering on the floor. He turned around, filled another glass with Scotch and sat on the very chair. It was his fourth for the night. All he could look was the impression of the kettle on the wall. The ghost of the past was still haunting his present.

He drank a quick gulp of neat scotch.

“I know you are not here anymore. You never did care. But I just want to say this. I know you won’t hear, but.. I still love you!

You are so far away, and it has been so many years.. Still, I cant get over you. How could I? How can I? Meera, she is exactly like you…”

In spite of the broken pieces of kettle on the floor, the little princess’s kingdom was still beautiful.