That one day no parent wants to face

I'm on my lunch break at the office, where the recent news about a child abduction is trending on the lunchroom TV. Someone commented out loud,

"Parents should be more responsible and take good care of their little ones. No use crying now."

My perspective on this statement was challenged by a fiasco that took place in my life recently.

Tuesday, at 4:30 pm:

The meeting will start in 15 minutes, and I am making some final corrections to my presentation. People around me are frantically running here and there, making arrangements for the meeting. Once this meeting gets done, I can relax and stop putting in those extra hours at work. I will finally get some time to spend with my family.

I received a call from a new number on my phone. Sorry, Mr.Whosoever you are, I don't have time for calls now. I ignore the call and drop the phone into my pocket. I can feel it vibrate again. I let it pass. I feel there are too many spam calls these days. They also somehow pick the exact time when you are in the middle of something very important. No, I don't want any loan or insurance product. All I need is a product called "peace of mind" that these fellows can never give me. But then, I get the call again from the same unknown number for the third time. Now, sensing that it could be something urgent, I picked up the call this time.

The caller introduces himself as Murugan, a cab driver. The name seems familiar, and so I ask him, "Sorry sir, but how do I know you?". He replies immediately, with a mild tension in his voice, that he is the new cab driver who picks up my daughter Anu from her school.

Immediately, I remember my dad telling me about Murugan, that he is a trusted person and has known my dad for many years now, and that we could let him pick up and drop off our daughter along with a few other kids from their school.

"Yes, Murugan anna (brother)!" Tell me. "

And that is when, in a panic-stricken tone, he delivers the news to me:

"Madam, your daughter is missing from school." I have searched everywhere for her. I tried calling your father, but as I could not reach him on his phone, I got your number from Anu's teacher. Please come to the school immediately. "

Time: 04:35pm

I stand there shell-shocked, not comprehending another word he said after he said that my daughter was missing. I ask him again and again if he has searched everywhere: the park, the auditorium, the science lab, and the library.

He tells me that he has informed everyone, and the teachers have also checked the whole school. One of Anu's friends told him that she last saw Anu outside the school gate waiting for a cab. Apparently, Anu's drawing class had extended and she had gotten out of school a little later than usual.

My call with Murugan ends. I fall to the office floor with a thud and am unable to move. All that news and the incidents about child trafficking, kidnapping, rape, and schoolchildren going missing come to mind. They were all just news to me, happening somewhere else, to somebody else, until today. I think of my daughter Anu, an energetic 10-year-old, with brown eyes, curly hair, and a smart and kind attitude. She is in some new place in this world, calling for my help. I break down completely thinking about her.

I then shout a big "NO" and tell myself, "I won't give up." I will find my daughter no matter what."

I rush out of the office after informing a friend about the situation. I start my car and drive towards Anu's school.

On my way, I call my husband, who is also out of town on a business trip. I know he can do very little about this now, but he needs to know, and I require all his support. He asks me to stop crying and urges me to calm down. He tells me that he's taking the next flight home, and until then, I should be strong for both of us. I can sense that he's putting up a strong wall just for my sake, and he will break down after my call. I didn't want to inform Mom and Dad of this, as they left for a wedding just this afternoon. And mother? She will be inconsolable if she knows Anu is lost.

As I stop at every traffic signal on the way, I scan the road carefully as if I will find her here somewhere.

Anu!! Where are you, my child? Mommy's coming. I cry out loud in the car, my voice trembling, unable to control myself.

Time: 04:45 pm

As I near the school, I receive another call from Dad. I wipe the tears from my eyes and clear my throat. But with just a soft hello from him, all my built-up strength goes weak and I start crying yet again. I tell him that Anu is missing, and he informs me that he spoke to Murugan.

I start crying to him, "Daddy!! I'm very scared. Where is she? What if something bad happens to her? "

He tells me to stay calm and stop assuming the worst. He adds that Anu is a smart child and she wouldn't just like that leave with any stranger. Also, that the school is a crowded public place and someone would have noticed if she had been kidnapped. He keeps the phone saying he's returning home with mom and that some of his friends will also come to the school to help me out until then. He was right. Anu is smart and she knows she shouldn't trust any stranger. I tell myself to be practical and stop thinking about the worst.

I reach Anu's school. The cab driver and teachers are waiting there. They look at me like doctors standing before the ICU with bad news and helplessness written all over their faces. Anu's teacher tells me that she has informed her husband, who happens to be a police officer, and he is on his way to meet her at the school, where they will be able to file a complaint soon. Cab driver Murugan repeats everything he told me on the phone in person, and I can see he is also deeply affected by it.

I sit down on a bench near the school gate, where her friend last saw Anu.

"Where is she? She was here."

"Where did she go? I don't know what to do."

"Please keep her safe. Let her be safe."

"I can't lose her. I can't. I won't lose her."

"I know I will find her. I'm coming to get you, Anu. I'm coming, my darling."

I keep talking to myself, crouching, and placing my hands on my head.

Time:05:05 pm

I then see Mr. Arun, the police inspector, talking to his wife (Anu's teacher) and then to Murugan. They both point at me, and I stand up with wobbling legs as he comes towards me. He gets straight into business. He asks me questions.

When did you last see the child?

What was she wearing?

Does she have a phone?Is she on social media?

Did you notice anything queer in her actions recently?

Did anyone have any fights with her?

Could she have run away from home?

Though alarmed at his questions, I answered each of them. I told him honestly that this morning we had a fight over me not being present at her dance practise and that she was very angry at me for not coming. We then made up when I promised to take her out the whole evening and also get some pizza.

Mr. Arun notes down everything. He tells me to inform everyone I know about this and to spread the news. He offers to personally help me but also tells me that the police will take up the case only after the child has been

missing for at least 24 hours, and so until then, we were on our own.

"Unbelievable!" I tell him. Don't these bureaucrats think about us parents when framing these stupid policies?

As I'm talking to Mr. Arun, I get a second missed call on my phone from Mrs. Sharma. I excuse myself and pick up the phone.

"Hello, dear. It's Rohit's grandmother here, "the old woman says, and then gives the phone to someone else. And then, from the other side, I hear my little Anu's voice calling me, "Mummy!! Where are you? When will you leave the office? Instead of pizza tonight, can you buy me some chat from that Gangotree shop near your office? " She goes on adding to the menu, "Get one cheese pav bhaji for me, one dahi puri for Rohit, and something for Dadi (grandmother) too."

My eyes well up when I hear Anu's voice. She is safe.

The little brat had finished her drawing class, and she had come out of school a little later than usual. Then, as she could not find the cab at its usual place (which was parked a little far away due to traffic), she thought the cab should have left without her, and so she decided to walk home with some friends. As her grandparents were not home and the cab did not drop her off at mommy's office, she went straight to Mrs. Sharma's house, where little Rohit and his grandmother welcomed her to stay until her mother was back.

Time : 10:55pm

I watch her face, sleeping on my lap. She's sleeping peacefully, holding my hand like there is no problem in the world. I'm grateful that I have her safe here with me. No parent should ever go through what I went through today. Those 30 minutes were the scariest moments of my life. I wonder how parents go through this. And out of curiosity, I look up the statistics of the missing children in India, and I am in for a big shock.

"On average, a child goes missing every 10 minutes in India, according to the women and child development ministry website for tracking missing children. At this rate, around 54,750 children would have been reported missing in the last one year in India and only about half of them would have been traced, if one goes by the police record on the missing children." - Prime times

"6 out of every 10 missing children are still untraceable." - Economic times.

With tears brimming up my eyes, I hold Anu's little hands tighter, knowing that I'm one lucky parent.

- Shruthi Rajaram

Photo source - Pinterest.