The Fraud

He couldn't help but ponder about his own mortality as he sat in his armchair thinking about how useless his life had been. Had he fallen a few inches on the right side, the tyre would have run over his head.

Not that he was afraid of that possibility. He is not afraid of that even now; just the thought of it gave some uneasiness. Death is not that big a deal, but the thought of it makes people shudder in fear. Like most things in life, it is the thought that kills, not the actual incident.

This is because there are lots of variables that get upset.

His little girl is pretending she is a doctor, treating the father. She is now applying some medicines, conjured out of thin air, and staring at her father. He has to pretend that he is fine; that his broken ankle has joined miraculously.

And now, she expects him to dance with her. She tells Alexa to play “Sheesh Threes”. The AI recognises her voice and what that usually commands her to do.

“Playing Cheap Thrills from your music library,” the AI lady says from the large carom striker like echo dot. The beats start. The little princes move her tiny body with the rhythm. She looks expectantly at her father, who presently shakes his upper body, sitting on the armchair, while keeping the legs rested on the bed.

Something in her says he is not fit yet to stand up, no matter her ‘miracurall’.

She dances alone. Her father stares at her with shiny eyes.

Had the tire run over his head, it would have burst like a lemon, helmet and all. They would have to scrape his brain from the broken pieces of the helmet. It would have been a ghastly scene for the bystanders to watch. And then people would have to come to the mortuary to take his body.

Of course, the kid would be at home. She would probably dance to her “Shees Threes”.

He would have to miss this most beautiful performance of that song today. It made his heart heavy. He shuddered.

He did not know if his wife had feelings towards him. Perhaps it was nothing but unadulterated hatred. But he saw the girl crying inconsolably, seeing him lying in the emergency room, his ankle bent at an unusual angle. He was ashamed to see her. When she brought her in this city, far from her parents, there was an implicit promise that she would keep her comfortable… happy. He had promised to himself, and conveyed through his eyes, that he would make her forget her parents; he would take so much of care of her.

Lying on the emergency bed, he was ashamed to pull this colossal fraud on her. She didn’t deserve any of this. But now the lives are so intricately linked, so much intermingled, it’s all messy. Nobody can escape this Hotel California anymore.

The sheer helplessness had made him shudder, too. Death would not have been easy for him. It would have been an inexcusable crime.

After the accident, she had to quit her job. Not that it was anything good, but she was just carving out her identity, her own way of fighting the fraud on her. But that is also gone now. God knows when she would be back, or if at all she would be able to.

As she arranged the teacups on the table, he checked her face from the corner of his eyes. His soft face is getting assaulted by some hard lines. He has caused each of those lines, he knows. She was an innocent girl when she held his hands, almost to the point of being naïve. Now she knows many things, can execute many tricks. He is slowly turning her into a scoundrel like him.

Or is it the reality of a family life? Surely the marriage is a failure, they both have agreed. But separating is just not possible for the sake of the kid. They both care for their child too much to throw her into uncertainties. At present, the kid needs both the parents. Both of them have forgotten their selves to give a secured life to the little life dancing in front of them.

The song has finished playing. But this is one of the few songs that the child knows, or can dictate to her friend Alexa, in her limited vocabulary. She wants to dance, and she will dance till her little legs hurt.

“Alexa, play Sheesh Threes.”

The beat starts, the little body moves in awkward angles with the sound. This is the most original and unique performance one can ever give. Every performance is a brilliant improvisation that no choreographer of the world can copy.

Both of them looked at their child with great pride in their eyes.

She has been the perfect answer. Perhaps all was not a fraud after all.