The Man (2/?)

The house is quiet and dark as I open the door and step inside, but I can hear voices at the back - gay voices belonging to my most precious treasures. Smiling, I close the door behind me. How can a simple act free us so? Closing the door is like an order to the outside world to stay out and keep away from my sacred haven. This is my sanctuary - my escape - my salvation - my chance at redemption. I have lost much in life but I would readily give up whole treasures to keep my precious ones safe.

The tinkly laughter floats into the fast darkening room and a small laugh surprises itself from me. I walk into the bedroom undressing carefully. With a small restless body in the house, it is not undangerous to leave discarded clothing around. As I put on the green T-shirt with a haphazardly placed Powerpuff Girls sticker on it, I can see the lights in the house coming on and the swift patter of feet. I am hardly out of the room when my little girl launches herself on to me with a gleeful welcome laugh and a squealed 'Daddy'. I hold fast to her, my Lenny, for an extra beat treasuring her smell of talcum and oil and mango which was apparently her post-afternoon-nap snack. But my little one is sharp and looks a question at me. So I press an extra kiss on her forehead and say with a mock wail "I missed you so today" which makes her laugh dismissively at her father's apparent childishness.

Lenny tugs at me to let her down and pulls me to the little study off the kitchen which doubles up as my wife's study. My wife looks up from her computer, beams at me and motions me over so she can indulge in a kiss with whole words looking at us. Jo has these large twinkly eyes and when coupled with the wide smile from her full lips, leaves me gasping even ten years after I fell head over heels in love and lust with the fiesty spirited girl who knew her mind and cleared some cobwebs off mine. We move to the kitchen table for tea and rusk for the two of us and coconut cookies for Lenny. We chat and catch up on our day and slowly the cloak of love warms up our little family cocoon.

Evening sets in and it is back to our daily chores - my wife cuts vegetables and indulges Lenny's current love of rhymes, and I prepare the rice. For about 2 hours, the air is rife with the chanting of rhymes, the cooker's whistles, familiar rustles and tinkling of cookery and a occasional fall of a spoon or glass that startles the two girls hunched over at the table, soft murmur of words as mother and daughter commune about the mysteries of words and sentences and mother and father go about preparing the night's delicacies - a simple preparation of rice, mixed vegetables, dal and poppadums (Lenny's favourite).

At dinner, father is made aware of little girls with sheep, twinkling stars and why he must not make a face because then the wind goblin would freeze his face and what will Lenny tell her friends then? Much laughter follows. The laughter bout continues as we watch Uncle Donald's shenanigans with his three nephews. Lenny, who is convinced that only boys have all the fun, heaves a too-loud-to-be-true sigh. I share a look with a grimacing Jo - we have spoken about taking a holiday for some time, maybe it is time to set a date with the beach.

After Lenny is tucked into her bed with a blessing of dreams full of adventurous rides, we wage war with the dishes speaking softly about everything and nothing: India's miserable outing at the cricket world cup, the coming elections, the neighbor's sick dog, lenny's friends, the temple festival, her work and the list goes on...Nothing is debated, everything is mentioned and specifics will be discussed later based on the importance and priority of each. The day slowly winds down for us and after making sure that the doors and windows are properly secured and Lenny safely travelling her dreams, we move into our sanctum.