‘You must see him at least once.’

‘Of what use would it be? My recent visit to my daughter to look after her little girl wasn’t successful. Around us were speech therapists, doctors, child counsellors, and a compassionate woman hired as a temporary ‘nanny’ who was actually biding her time to get a suitable placement. She is educated.’

‘Still, visit him, just once. Something may come out of it.’

‘Okay. I heard it’s not easy to get an appointment to see him.’

‘That’s right. You’ll be lucky if he gives you an appointment because he decides who he’ll see, rather arbitrarily. He is not into this professionally. Money is not his motive. ’

‘Then what is?’

‘God knows. He is frightfully busy. He has a day job, so he is frightfully busy.’

But of course, he’ll have a day job. He is much younger than my daughter, she thought.

***

Keeping his busy schedule in mind, she had prepared a very brief outline of her granddaughter’s problem and whittled it down to half a page.

She was ushered into a quiet room. There was no one else. An inner door opened, and a young man came out with folded hands.

‘Namaste, Madam. Sorry, I kept you waiting,’ he said, with a pleasant smile.

She got up. ‘Namaste. Thanks so much for giving me an appointment.’

‘Not at all. Shall we go into my room?’

She followed him.

‘Kindly take a seat,’ he said before settling at his uncluttered desk that had a laptop, a neat pile of books, a notepad, and a pen stand. A man brought a tray with a glass of chilled water.

‘Would you like tea or maybe some cold drink?’ he inquired.

‘Tea would be fine. Thanks very much.’

He nodded to the man who left the room.

‘So, what’s the problem?’ he asked.

‘My granddaughter, who has completed three years, is unable to talk. Kids far younger than her are talking, some of them very clearly. Unfortunately, she has no speech.’ She explained about her recent visit to her daughter’s house to help the child get over her stranger anxiety about her new ‘nanny’, the speech therapists and counsellors, as briefly as she could.

He listened quietly and then was lost in thought.

‘Many years back, her mother, that is, your daughter, also had a problem talking when she was small, didn’t she?’

‘Not at all. My daughter is doing very well in her career after her MBA. She gives talks and conducts conferences.’

‘Yes, yes of course. I meant when she was very small, and you had to leave her with your parents in the South to rejoin your work in Delhi. She would be so upset that her speech got slurred, if you can recall,’ he nudged gently.

It all came back to her—a flood of memories. Panic calls from her parents, paediatricians who told them her child was emotionally traumatised by the separation from her mother…Who told this young man all that?

‘Yes, Mr. …’

‘Please call me Sandeep.

‘Very well, Sandeep. It’s true my daughter lapsed into a slurred speech a couple of times when I left her. But very soon, my husband and I brought her over with us, and all was well. She had started speaking when she was less than two.’

He smiled and nodded.

‘But your granddaughter has never spoken so far, although there is no trauma? And both her parents are with her.’

She nodded. ‘I felt utterly helpless, useless even, as I just couldn’t help the poor child after having gone all the way. She would just cling on to me, shun the nanny and others, and cry her heart out if I left her for a while to have a bath.’

The man brought in a tray with tea and a bowl of biscuits and left the room.

‘Please have your tea,’ he urged, taking his cup.

Lovely, cardamom-flavoured tea.

‘Your granddaughter feels secure only with you. Although she couldn’t speak, think of the hundred little ways she communicated with you, Madam. Just recollect her smiles, her warm hugs, the way she would sidle on to your lap and look up at your face.’

Goodness. Such accurate details. Her hands went cold. She curled her fingers firmly around the hot cup of tea. What’s he going to say next?

‘Her gestures were very unusual for a three-year-old,’ he said.

‘Unusual?’

‘Indeed yes. Just think, Madam, of the sense of time this dear child had, reminding you to do your evening Buddhist prayers and chanting at 5:00 pm sharp. When she couldn’t read the time? After all, she was fast asleep during your early morning chanting. But at the stroke of five, she would silently ask you to go to the room where you had kept your prayer bell and gong, take up your book of liturgy, and then sit very close to you to listen for anything from thirty to forty-five minutes. How patiently she followed her instincts every single day.’

Her feet felt numb with fear of what she couldn’t fathom. Nobody has talked to this man about her. No person enters his well-guarded fortress.

‘Oh yes. It was a heartwarming gesture. When I prayed and chanted, her entire face lit up.’

‘That’s what I meant, Madam. How many kids who we consider to be ‘normal’ would care whether it’s your prayer time, much less listen patiently till you finish? Kids are so distracted.’

‘Yes. She is an amazing child. I’ve never seen a…’

‘So, please don’t say that your visit couldn’t help at all. Bonding over prayers on her own free will has such a healing power. She may not speak for another year or maybe more.’

‘Oh no! What are we to do? Please advise.’

‘Madam, what’s more important is, when she finally gets her speech, you will be surprised.’

‘Surprised?’

‘Yes. Because her speech will be clean. Unlike most other kids who talk to hurt and who use bad, vulgar language or slang, your granddaughter will stand out with her clean speech. She’ll be loved by everyone who gets to know her. She’ll have many friends. Would you like some more tea?’

‘No, Sandeep, thanks very much. Excellent tea. I feel so encouraged by your positive response to our problem. And I can’t thank you enough for giving me your time,’ she said, getting up to go.

He got up.

‘Take care, Madam. Guard your own time well,’ he said.

‘My time?’

‘You’re into music, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘You must strictly preserve the purity of the environment. So, Madam, please don’t compromise your Riyaaz in the excuse of relations and so-called family-friends who are actually negative in effect. They’re energy vampires who’ll rob you of your creativity. Cut them off from your life.’

She stood transfixed by the accuracy of his observation.

‘Wish you the best for your granddaughter and for you. She’ll not only speak; she’ll glow like a lamp. You must visit her as often as you can. Namaste,’ he said, folding his hands as he saw her off.

Eighteen years down the line, everything he said turned out to be true. Her granddaughter spoke fluently. In the midst of her contemporaries, peers, and adults who were outrageously crude and abusive in their language, she stood out—a  cool, civilised person who glowed like a pure lamp. And her grandmother, at long last, had learnt to shed the toxic people from her life to fine-tune her raagas.