Looking up at the dark clouds in the sky, Diya asked her mother, “Do you think it is going to rain?” Her mother replied, “It might,” looking worried. There was still so much left to be done before they moved to the new city, to begin afresh. She did not know if it was the right thing to do, it might or might not be the wisest decision; who could tell, but time.
Diya’s grandmother was furiously against the idea. “Go if you must, Diti, but Diya should be here with me till you settle down; and I am not giving you a choice,“ she said. “Mother, you cannot always tell me what to do,“ argued an exasperated Diti, “You have never trusted me enough to believe that I could live alone and raise a child on my own. I can, and I will,” she said before storming out.
“I may not have been the best mother to her,” rued Diya’s grandmother. “After all she was only 10 when her father abandoned us. She chose to adopt Diya when she was only 25 and has been fiercely protective of her. I may have been wrong to doubt her potential. After all she is my daughter, and she is as brave as I was at her age, if not more.” The dark clouds that loomed over her heart cleared as this realization dawned.
Outside it had started raining heavily. She looked out of the window and saw Diti chasing Diya playfully in the rain. As their laughter filled the garden, Diti’s mother smiled to herself. Confident her little daughter could take care of herself and her daughter, no matter where they lived.