90 Rupees

Just like any other eighth grader enjoying her summer vacation, I went to Rajahmundry with my dad to visit my grandparents. On the last day, as they waved goodbye, my grandma secretly slipped a ₹100 note into my hand. It wasn’t just a note—it was a bundle of 100 tons of love. I tucked it safely into my pocket and climbed onto the bus. My dad, exhausted from the trip, quickly dozed off. I tried to follow, but sleep wouldn’t come. I read my comic book for a while and got bored. I started staring out the window for what felt like hours, I suddenly spotted something magical—a cotton candy seller at a station. I had been banned from sweets during the whole vacation, and this was the one thing I had been craving. I couldn’t resist. Quietly, I got down, bought one for ₹10, and slipped the remaining ₹90 back into my pocket. Happily licking the sweet fluff, I climbed back into the bus… but my dad wasn’t there. Panic hit me like a slap. The bus started moving. My heart thumped as I ran up and down the aisle, but he was nowhere to be found. Sleepy passengers snored like dinosaurs around me. Desperate, I shook the dinosaur uncle sitting nearby. He told me to calm down and offered to call my dad. As I was giving him the number, he suddenly frowned. “Are you sure this was your seat? I’ve been here since the first stop. No one’s sat here until now.” Before I could respond, the bus halted at the next station, and a tall man with a young boy took “my” seat. Confused, I rushed outside to check, and my worst fear came true. I had boarded the wrong bus. I called my dad, but of course, he didn’t answer—he always puts his phone on DND before sleeping. Tears welled up. My beloved cotton candy now felt like the enemy. I vowed never to eat it again. Then I heard it, a voice that could only belong to my dad. At first, I thought my tired brain was tricking me, but when I turned… there he was, smiling, shaking me awake. It had all been a dream. I laughed at myself and clung to his hand all the way home. Seeing my mom and brother after weeks made me happier than any cotton candy could. Later, while eating Maggi, my mom called out from the laundry: “Maya, you forgot to take ₹90 out of your pocket again! When will you stop forgetting things?” I froze. Ninety? But grandma had given me ₹100! I ran to check, confused. My dad, chuckling, explained: “After you fell asleep, I saw a man selling cotton candy. I knew you had craved it all vacation. I only had ₹500, so I used your money instead. Forgot to tell you.” Relieved, I smiled. So in the end, both in my dream and in real life, cotton candy had managed to sneak into the story.