The Diary of the Girl with the Two Dads
1. Little Amara’s Two Dads
Dear Diary,
We made Father's Day cards at school yesterday. I made TWO of them, a vast improvement over Mother's Day when I made no cards at all. Ms. Lynne asked us to read our messages out aloud. I couldn’t wait for my turn!
I proudly announced that I had two; one for Daddy, the other for Papa. The class burst out laughing, and Ms. Lynne scolded them. I sat down abruptly, my head hot and heavy. I did have two fathers. What was wrong with that?
After class, Matt, the bully, made fun of me. He said things about my dads that I may not have understood, but it hurt anyway. When Papa came to pick me up, I remained sullen throughout the car ride.
“Amara, are you hungry? Is everything OK, Sugarplum?”
Papa worried about everyone and everything. Daddy on the other hand was quieter, but when he spoke, he made sense.
That evening, I broke down and told them everything, about class, and Matt. Papa started pacing up and down, clenching his fist tightly.
“I’ll complain to Ms. Lynne! An eight-year-old shouldn’t be bullied like this!”
Daddy put his hand on Papa’s shoulder.
“We can’t be there every time. Amara needs to stand up for herself.”
Daddy gave me advice on how to handle the situation. I grinned.
Matt wouldn’t know what hit him!
I set off to school, promising Papa I would be fine. I bumped into Matt right in the class corridor.
“Oh, look! It’s Gay-mara herself!”
“My name is Amara. And if you insult me or my dads, I will punch you in the face!” I threatened, balling up my fist tightly, my features contorted to their menacing best.
Matt slunk away. That’s all it took to show a bully his place; a taste of his own medicine. While I wasn’t planning to punch him, I wasn’t going to let him walk all over me either.
Daddy had told me that sometimes the hiss is more powerful than the bite. It’s true.
***
Dear Diary,
My friend Ashley is going to visit her grandparents in Canada, over the holidays. I’m jealous!
I’ve lived all of my eight years in America- we have moved states when Daddy’s job demanded it. Papa does freelance work from home and takes care of us. Papa’s parents are dead. Daddy’s parents are alive, but they live in India, a country I have never been to.
Yesterday, I mustered the courage to ask Papa.
“Can we please do a video call to see what my grandparents look like?”
Papa hummed and hawed but ultimately gave in. He can never say no. Not to me, or to anyone for that matter. And Daddy never says no to Papa, well except when Papa gets carried away and gives me too much candy.
After incessant pleading, Daddy messaged his parents. Guess what? They replied that they would love to speak to him! I’m flipping out! I FINALLY get to see my grandparents for the first time. And to think, all we had to do, was ask!
I’m going to tidy my room and take out all my stuffed toys to show my Dadaji and Dadiji, for that’s how I’m supposed to address them.
I’m going to love them. I know it.
***
Dear Diary,
Some days, we wake up thinking that the day will be perfect. But like an ice cream that is accidentally dropped on the sidewalk, everything goes splat, leaving only a mess.
Yesterday was the day of the video call. I wore my blue Frozen dress with matching ribbons. Papa said I looked like a princess. I twirled around happily.
The Zoom Meet connected, and I finally saw them- my grandparents! I was thrilled. Dadaji looked just like Daddy. Strangely, he was not smiling. And Dadiji looked like she was going to cry.
Dadaji thundered, “Aman, it is still not too late. Why this madness? Come back home. We will find a girl for you to marry. And this time you can have real children, not someone you picked up from the street.”
I couldn’t understand what happened, but one thing was clear. My grandparents were mean. I had never seen Daddy this angry before. His veins on his hand bulged as he clasped the mouse tightly.
“This IS my family. And no, you are not welcome. Your loss!”
He cut the call and stormed out, with Papa following behind frantically.
It was evident that my grandparents didn’t like us. Well, we didn’t like them either.
At night, Daddy and Papa tucked me in bed together.
“Sugarplum, do you know why we named you Amara? It’s a portmanteau of our names. Aman and Rajesh. You are a symbol of our love. We don’t need anyone else. We’ll be OK.”
As my eyelids grew heavy, I saw them watching me tenderly. They were right.
We were perfect just the way we were.
2. Growing Pains
Dear Diary,
I’m only twelve, but my life is awful. No one understands me, not even my dads. I had a meltdown yesterday and said things that I shouldn’t have. It all started with revelations from their side.
Revelations
- I’m adopted. This shouldn’t have come as a shock. I mean what was I expecting? I feel like the Kung-Fu Panda, when he was told the goose wasn’t his dad.
- My biological mother is an Indian teenager who gave me away and didn’t want to keep in touch.
- I have one set of grandparents in India, and they hate us.
- Sugarplum grows up
- Kung fu Panda Adoption disclosure:
- OMG- Oh My God
- Boa Constrictor- A snake
- Netflix and Chill-An Internet slang used as a euphemism for sexual activity, especially by the teenage community. Not to be confused for viewing Netflix and chilling.
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