I did not call you because...

Alma : “When I was out with my friends, something struck me. As it got later than we had planned, the mothers of all my friends called them up. Except you. You did not call.”

Me : I did not call you, Alma.

I did not call you. Not because I was not concerned about you. Or because I was not thinking of you.

That day when I came home and saw your room looking unusually clean and tidy, I instantly knew that you had gone. A whiff of your favourite deodorant was lingering in the air. You had left just some minutes back.

As time passed by, I imagined you sitting  with your friends, talking and laughing. In my mind’s eye, I saw you looking like a doll, all grown up and pretty. I knew you must have been wearing your favourite black T-shirt and jeans. I knew you must have been having fun. As the minutes passed by, I wondered when you will come back. But I did not call you.

…Because I know that when you are out having fun with your friends, and ‘Mom’ flashes on the screen of your mobile, your heart will sink. With anxiety. With guilt. You may feel defensive.  You may stop smiling. And I did not want you to stop smiling.

…Because I know that years of   counseling you has made sure that there is an internal curfew system inside you, which means that you will know instinctively when it is too late, when it is no longer safe, when something is just simply wrong. You are a sensible girl. This weight of my faith in you is far heavier than any restrictions or panic calls I may make.

…Because I feel that you need to have your time, your space. I may be your parent but I want you to know that your life is yours alone. I am here to guide you, but not to take away from you, what is yours.

….Because I know that soon you will spread your wings and  fly away.  You are just three years away from  adulthood. Your favourite deodorant scent will no longer linger in your room, where you have been living since you were a baby. You will pack your bags and leave, visiting me sometimes, but gone otherwise. And I want you to start being accountable only to yourself. 

…Because no matter how far or how long you may be gone, you will always come running back home, where all troubles melt away with a gentle touch, a kind word and a glass of hot chocolate.

I did not call you, Alma. Because I do not need to. The golden chord that binds us is too powerful. We don’t need phone calls.