Cocoon of love
Megha Bajaj shares a heartwarming anecdote which affirms that love is all about being a part of someone else’s life
My sister bought it for me from Mahabaleshwar. The pink princess blanket. I could feel the love and protectiveness of the gesture, and so I cherished it even more. The blanket veritably became my thinking space, my feeling space, my security space.
I don’t work continuously. I intersperse my doing with a lot of non-doing. It brings out the best in me. A few minutes on the laptop or in a meeting, and then I will come, be in the blanket, just thinking, not thinking, being, planning. In time, the pink blanket became almost like a cocoon to me—a space I retired to, to be with myself.
Raju was our new house help. The fact that he had worked at the well-known actress and model Bipasha Basu’s house before ours was exciting to me. Cute, young, and very innocent is how I would describe Raju. For reasons unknown to me, I just felt very protective of him.
Every night, Raju would switch on the AC, light a candle, and carefully lay the pink princess blanket for me to sleep in. All day, he would keep telling me myriad tales from his twenty-something years of life filled with hard work, struggles, misery, little triumphs, and a lot of love. Everyone consulted him for everything. He was like a little advisor in his own right. It was fun watching him have a hundred animated expressions as he spoke.
Two nights back, everything changed. Back home in his village, Raju has a two year old son and (had) a daughter who was two months old. Both fell ill, and while the son survived, the little one passed away. The same Raju who skipped more than he walked and had a roaring laughter, now looked like a ghost. It was overwhelming to see someone so lost, so bereft, so woebegone.
He wanted to go back to his village immediately, and we didn’t stop him. We gave him money, water, food, everything we could but, somehow, I wasn’t feeling satisfied. It was a tough night. I was tossing and turning, and we all were disturbed by his loss.
I wanted to give him something which was indicative of my love for him. Often when he would be laying my blanket, he would tell me, “Didi, when I go to the village, you help me buy one such blanket for my children.” Spontaneously, I got up, folded the blanket, and took it to his room. I told him, “Please take this for your son!” He innocently asked, “What will you use, Didi?” I could only respond with tears.
The next morning, Raju left. He hasn’t been reachable on the phone. I have no clue where he is and what he is going through. I don’t even know if he will come back, yet I feel connected to him in a way I cannot understand.
Love comes in the most unexpected forms. I don’t know why I feel so responsible for this young boy. Why am I flowing with love for a family I have never met and pain for the loss of a little girl whom I only knew through his stories? And yet, it makes me feel real. Beautiful.
And to know, somewhere, a little boy — who may not even know he lost a little sister or that faraway a ‘Didi’ is holding him so close—will feel safe, secure, and protected in a pink princess blanket, seems very comforting right now.
Megha Bajaj is a bestselling author, film script writer and poet.
An ardent seeker at heart, she also runs her online writing and healing workshops called WoW. You can read more about her on www.MeghaBajajWoW.com.
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