A Chance Meeting With...

RITIKA

This 7-year-old girl would come to church with her grandma. Her parents were in Dubai. It was just her, her sister who had just been born, and her grandma living in Trivandrum. I don’t remember the first time we met. I just know she would always come to me with an excited face and hold my hand. Her grandma would be at the back of the church holding her sister. Ritika would come to the front during the holy mass with a big smile aimed at me and would stand in front of me. I remember teaching her action songs, taking her with me to church carols, and going to her house to sing carols. She used to ask her grandma if she could stay longer in the church so that she could spend time with us. I was Renu Chechi to her. When I moved to Australia in 2017, I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to her.

Years later in 2021, I remember asking one of my cousins, who attended the same church, about Ritika. I wanted to know how she was and if she still attended Sunday School. My cousin didn’t know and couldn’t give me a proper answer.

When I was asking about Ritika, I was going through a phase where I missed love, affection, and care in my life. Living alone in a country without family and friends made me feel like an orphan. I was appreciating everything I used to have back home especially all the love some Sunday School kids showered on me. I wanted to make sure that Ritika was ok. I didn’t pursue my search.

In July 2022, I came back to Trivandrum for a month. I didn’t go to church every Sunday for various reasons. More on that in another post.

A cousin and his family came to see me and invited me back to their apartment to stay overnight. I went to their flat and as I walked into the building reception, I could see some kids playing in the play area. A girl was sitting behind the desk. I didn’t pay much attention to them and proceeded to the apartment. Inside the flat, we started chatting and my cousin-in-law started talking about how their little one loved playing with other kids in the building, especially with a girl named Ishika. I casually told them that we used to have an Ishika in our church and this Ishika had a sister named Ritika.

To my surprise, she told me that their neighbor Ishika also had a sister named Ritika and it was the girl sitting behind the desk when we had walked in. I couldn’t believe my luck. I gave them more information about my Ritika to confirm in fact that both Ritikas were the same. I decided to go and talk to her. As I walked closer to the reception, I couldn’t recognize the girl sitting in front of me. This was not the 8-year-old girl I once knew. This was a 13-year-old teenager with wise eyes. I asked her if she knew me. She said no. I asked her if she could remember a Renu Chechi from her previous life. She said she did remember now and admitted that she used to go to church just to see me. I felt so happy. This meeting was meant to be. 

What were the chances of Ritika living in the same apartment complex as my cousin and me meeting her on that night, way past anyone’s bedtime? I strongly believe that the universe made this happen for me. She probably doesn’t care or remember much about the past, but I will always cherish the love, affection, and acceptance Ritika gave me. I pray for her happiness and well-being as she navigates life. I hope that life is kind to her. I hope that she knows she has me in her corner, always.