Friday Features: Waiting for the Call

by Anchal Katyal

Illustration by Anchal Katyal

I was at work when my phone rang.  I switched it off. Sneha, a good friend of mine, asked me why I was so disturbed. I told her that my dad and I had a fight and I just didn’t want to talk to him.

“Hey, can I tell you something?”she asked.  “It’s a story.” Surprised, I told her to tell me; I needed to take my mind off my dad anyway. 

“It happened many years ago,” she said, “but it’s still fresh in my mind like it was yesterday. The pain, love and support of a truest friend. I was 17, a new adult, ready to face life on my own and that was the main reason for all the fights with my parents. I knew what I was doing, be it right or wrong. I believed in myself but I guess they lacked trust in me. I was an average kid, well a bit above average. But right from my childhood my father used to tell me to make friends with those class toppers. I never liked that. I had my own group and they were like me, but my father didn’t like them because they weren’t scholars. Things turned bad when I stopped talking to them. I managed to get a scholarship in a college in Pune and so I moved to college hostel. I managed to do everything on my own as though there was no one to help me.” 

“I loved my mom,” she continued. “I don’t know when I started hating my father. I thought moving away would make me like him again. I called my mom once in 10 days but the conversation never lasted for more 

than 5 minutes. I never talked to my father. As time passed I became used to being alone.” 

“My dad’s birthday was coincidently a holiday in college. I left him a message and he didn’t bother to call. I was his daughter, yet in these last 9 months he didn’t feel like talking to me once. A part of me wished he would call, at least once.  I was sitting on the terrace of the hostel crying when Jay came to me. He was my best friend in college. I told him everything and he took out his phone and called my dad.” 

“‘Hello, may I speak to Mr. Rohit Arora?’ he said. ‘I am an old friend of his.’ I figured he was making my wish come true. Suddenly his face turned pale. 

‘What? How did this happen?’ he said. I stood up and asked him what was wrong. He cut the call. The next few words that left his mouth changed everything. 

‘I am very sorry…’ he said. ‘Your dad died 3 months ago in a car accident.’ I broke into tears and before I knew what was happening, I fainted. 

When I woke up my mom was there. Jay had called her. She said my dad was coming to meet me, and that he was late because he had met with an accident on the way. My father didn’t want me to know about his death. His last wish was to have it kept from me as long as possible. He didn’t want me to breakdown and get upset. He just wanted me to be happy. I felt like a criminal for not calling him for months.”

“Parents get angry with their kids but that doesn’t mean they don’t love them,” she said. “I can never let him go. It’s been a long time since he passed away but still every time I look at my cell it reminds me of him. I feel like he died waiting for me to call!” 

I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that she had never told me this earlier. My voice was choked but I managed to speak. “I am so….so sorry. I didn’t know.” 

She gave me a big smile and said, “I told you I was telling a story. My dad is fine. I use this story when I am mad at him. You know, life is too short to be angry with someone, no matter what.” 

I thanked her for the story. A part of me changed that day. I took out my phone and made the call.

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Anchal Katyal is a 19 year old IT engineering student from Mumbai. She is still exploring her talents. Writing is relatively new on her list so do drop her a few words of encouragement. 

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