Let the loved know, how much they are loved.
"You used to share every little thing about your life with me, Khushi. But ever since you entered college, you seem to have got so easily detached from your home and family. And me."
"Oh come on mummy! It's all a part of growing up, of becoming independent. Don't we all change with progress in life? I can't stay a kid forever, can I?"
"You'll remain a kid for me always, Khushi beta. Even when you become a granny."
"Yeah I know that mum. And please don't say that I've got detached from you all. You can see for yourself, college life isn't like school life. I get back home pretty late. And then... "
"And then, you either sleep or switch on the computer, and sit there in your room till dinner time when I have to call out to you a hundred times, Khushi, have your food!... Khushi have your food! right?"
"Oh please! Don't start it all over again. I am fed up. Good night!!" Khushi muttered her last words, abruptly ending the argument, that had occurred the nth time since the advent of her college life, and with that, banged close the door of her room quite loud. Real loud.
"I'm fed up too. But you don't seem to be able to understand..." mom heaved a deep sigh, not of relief, but of exhaustion. Of worry.
"I don't know how to explain it to her! Everyone gets busy with their own lives in college, how am I being any different! Not that it means I don't love my family anymore. Huh!!" she grumbled in frustration, while setting her blanket right, preparing to doze off, bringing the hectic day to an end, quite early today. Since the internet wasn't working.
Mom sure wasn't completely wrong.
(Lights off.
Blanket on.
Silence.
Good night.)
________________________________________
**************************************************
"Finally gonna be home early today! Gonna make mom happy. Yay! Will make her some tea, chat with her for a while. And only then get back to the regular. Hehehe... sounds good. Hmmm," Khushi thought to herself, sitting in the wrecked-up DTC bus that was going to drop her home earlier than the usual today. Mass bunks help, don't they? There were going to be no bitter arguments today. No complaints.
"Darn! The door's locked. So she's out. Umm... never mind, I'll keep the tea and snack ready and then when she comes, 'surprise'!" Khushi smiled in her thoughts, as she unlocked the doors to enter the empty house.
Everything was falling in place as planned. She tidied up the place a little bit. A cup of tea, with a lid over it to keep it hot for as long as possible, along with some snack, was waiting on the table for mom. And so was Khushi.
Love is all about little surprises, some smiles and lots of warmth and care. And for a child, a son or a daughter, nothing beats the sense of pride and the glint of extreme happiness that he or she gets, on seeing his/her mother smiling. Smiling, 'coz of something they did for her.
A child's surprise, innocent.
Rare, but full of care.
Backed by the desire to be 'THE BEST' daughter or son—unaware, that for a mother her child will always be the best. Better than the rest of the world.
It was a daughter's emotions that were keeping her spirits so pumped up for such a small thing.
Nevertheless, she waited.
And she waited.
Waited some more.
And fell asleep. On the table itself, with her head gently resting on the back of her palms.
Every second of a wait for someone loved seems to last a lifetime—the worst test of one's patience, but the best test for love. 'Coz the heart still knows, one glance of the person is worth the apparently infinite longing. In the end, it's love which will make it all seem so finite.
Khushi woke up to loud irking rings of the telephone. Getting up from the table, as she gently rubbed her eyes, the wall clock came into sight. It was 12 A.M, and mom definitely still wasn't there. The tea lay there, untouched, now turned poison. The snack, cold and un-eatable. But obviously the question was, "Still not home, is mom okay?!"
"Hello?"
"Yeah, this is her daughter. May I know who am I talking to?"
"WHAT! look, whoever you are, this is no joke! God will punish you for this!!" some more shouts, howls, cries and questions later, the phone receiver lay hanging by the table.
And Khushi—expressionless, clueless, sat on the floor. Crouched in one corner. Her hands covering her mouth, left open in disbelief. Slightly shivering.
She was lost.
She had lost herself.
She had lost the one the tea and snack had turned cold while waiting for.
She had lost her mother.
She had lost... her world.
Pages of her memories flipped over again and again—deepening wounds that had come up suddenly, from nowhere, marring her soul, scarring her life.
Scenes from the past were passing by with the speed of light, in front of her bewildered eyes.
The hug that had always welcomed her at the door, on coming back from school.
And the questioning eyes that would stare so badly if she got late.
The worried scoldings when she had scored her lowest ever, in Maths, in 6th standard.
And the sense of pride that gleamed bright, on seeing the trophies Khushi had been awarded, for topping in the board exams in her school, both the times.
The tears that had rolled by day and night, as she lay in one room of the house, isolated—suffering from the worst form of Chicken Pox, worried for her present and her future.
And the NO JUNK FOOD instructions.
The unasked-for homemade remedies and tips on how to look prettier.
And the 'pay more attention to studies, than fashion!' lectures.
The anger. And the hugs.
The kisses. And the tears.
The care. And the worries.
The lectures. And the stories.
How many such instances could she dig out from heaps of dusted, faded memories, that she had never cared for, before?
How could she find out the weight of her mother's love, NOW, that she was no longer there with her?
How could she thank god for giving her the most priceless possession of her life, when she no longer possessed it?
Questions came flooding. Answers were nowhere to be seen.
Tears wash away fears, and sorrows. But an eternal loss is eternal. It cannot be washed away. There is only a finite level of despair that can make us cry. Beyond it, there's stark loneliness, grief. And no tears. Yeah, she couldn't cry more.
___________________________________
*************************************************
Baffled, she woke up with near teary eyes and a gravely tense look. The blanket went flying off to the floor and Khushi ran for her life, till she was standing besides her mother in her room, offering countless prayers of gratefulness to the almighty. Her eyes refused to look elsewhere, they were searching for an assurance which only that calm face could offer.
"I love you mom," Khushi whispered. Old eyes do not sleep the sleep of a baby. Mom woke up and was about to raise her questions, but Khushi interrupted.
"Mom, can I sleep with you tonight?"
"Of course baby, come. But what happened, you woke up to some nightmare?"
"I love you mummy. You mean the world to me. Please never leave me alone. Never ever," Khushi murmured with almost teary, closed eyes and a pale smile.
"No my child, I won't leave you ever. You are my world beta!" She was puzzled, but still knew, all that her daughter needed then was assurance. And the sudden splurge of love had only heartened her more.
"You know baby, you're such a kid. An innocent kid."
"I'll always be so for you mommy. Even when I become a granny".
She grinned naughtily and slept the most peaceful sleep, in the world's safest place.
- Her mother's arms.
PS- Love is a feeling, an emotion. Expressing it won't add anything to it, nor would not expressing it take anything from it. But, no one is going to stay with us forever. So leave no chance to tell the ones you love, how much you value them. Time waits for none, you being no exception. So love the loved as much as you can, lest you have to repent later. For even as we continue to pray for some-ONE, some others continue to care for us, ignored yet uncomplaining.
It takes just a few words, a hug, a kiss or a simple gesture to show to someone priceless, their value in your life. Love is simple and priceless. You just need to love it.
-Dedicated to the one I love the most. The person who is easiest to make happy. A hug is all that it takes. :)
By,
"Oh come on mummy! It's all a part of growing up, of becoming independent. Don't we all change with progress in life? I can't stay a kid forever, can I?"
"You'll remain a kid for me always, Khushi beta. Even when you become a granny."
"Yeah I know that mum. And please don't say that I've got detached from you all. You can see for yourself, college life isn't like school life. I get back home pretty late. And then... "
"And then, you either sleep or switch on the computer, and sit there in your room till dinner time when I have to call out to you a hundred times, Khushi, have your food!... Khushi have your food! right?"
"Oh please! Don't start it all over again. I am fed up. Good night!!" Khushi muttered her last words, abruptly ending the argument, that had occurred the nth time since the advent of her college life, and with that, banged close the door of her room quite loud. Real loud.
"I'm fed up too. But you don't seem to be able to understand..." mom heaved a deep sigh, not of relief, but of exhaustion. Of worry.
"I don't know how to explain it to her! Everyone gets busy with their own lives in college, how am I being any different! Not that it means I don't love my family anymore. Huh!!" she grumbled in frustration, while setting her blanket right, preparing to doze off, bringing the hectic day to an end, quite early today. Since the internet wasn't working.
Mom sure wasn't completely wrong.
(Lights off.
Blanket on.
Silence.
Good night.)
________________________________________
**************************************************
"Finally gonna be home early today! Gonna make mom happy. Yay! Will make her some tea, chat with her for a while. And only then get back to the regular. Hehehe... sounds good. Hmmm," Khushi thought to herself, sitting in the wrecked-up DTC bus that was going to drop her home earlier than the usual today. Mass bunks help, don't they? There were going to be no bitter arguments today. No complaints.
"Darn! The door's locked. So she's out. Umm... never mind, I'll keep the tea and snack ready and then when she comes, 'surprise'!" Khushi smiled in her thoughts, as she unlocked the doors to enter the empty house.
Everything was falling in place as planned. She tidied up the place a little bit. A cup of tea, with a lid over it to keep it hot for as long as possible, along with some snack, was waiting on the table for mom. And so was Khushi.
Love is all about little surprises, some smiles and lots of warmth and care. And for a child, a son or a daughter, nothing beats the sense of pride and the glint of extreme happiness that he or she gets, on seeing his/her mother smiling. Smiling, 'coz of something they did for her.
A child's surprise, innocent.
Rare, but full of care.
Backed by the desire to be 'THE BEST' daughter or son—unaware, that for a mother her child will always be the best. Better than the rest of the world.
It was a daughter's emotions that were keeping her spirits so pumped up for such a small thing.
Nevertheless, she waited.
And she waited.
Waited some more.
And fell asleep. On the table itself, with her head gently resting on the back of her palms.
Every second of a wait for someone loved seems to last a lifetime—the worst test of one's patience, but the best test for love. 'Coz the heart still knows, one glance of the person is worth the apparently infinite longing. In the end, it's love which will make it all seem so finite.
Khushi woke up to loud irking rings of the telephone. Getting up from the table, as she gently rubbed her eyes, the wall clock came into sight. It was 12 A.M, and mom definitely still wasn't there. The tea lay there, untouched, now turned poison. The snack, cold and un-eatable. But obviously the question was, "Still not home, is mom okay?!"
"Hello?"
"Yeah, this is her daughter. May I know who am I talking to?"
"WHAT! look, whoever you are, this is no joke! God will punish you for this!!" some more shouts, howls, cries and questions later, the phone receiver lay hanging by the table.
And Khushi—expressionless, clueless, sat on the floor. Crouched in one corner. Her hands covering her mouth, left open in disbelief. Slightly shivering.
She was lost.
She had lost herself.
She had lost the one the tea and snack had turned cold while waiting for.
She had lost her mother.
She had lost... her world.
Pages of her memories flipped over again and again—deepening wounds that had come up suddenly, from nowhere, marring her soul, scarring her life.
Scenes from the past were passing by with the speed of light, in front of her bewildered eyes.
The hug that had always welcomed her at the door, on coming back from school.
And the questioning eyes that would stare so badly if she got late.
The worried scoldings when she had scored her lowest ever, in Maths, in 6th standard.
And the sense of pride that gleamed bright, on seeing the trophies Khushi had been awarded, for topping in the board exams in her school, both the times.
The tears that had rolled by day and night, as she lay in one room of the house, isolated—suffering from the worst form of Chicken Pox, worried for her present and her future.
And the NO JUNK FOOD instructions.
The unasked-for homemade remedies and tips on how to look prettier.
And the 'pay more attention to studies, than fashion!' lectures.
The anger. And the hugs.
The kisses. And the tears.
The care. And the worries.
The lectures. And the stories.
How many such instances could she dig out from heaps of dusted, faded memories, that she had never cared for, before?
How could she find out the weight of her mother's love, NOW, that she was no longer there with her?
How could she thank god for giving her the most priceless possession of her life, when she no longer possessed it?
Questions came flooding. Answers were nowhere to be seen.
Tears wash away fears, and sorrows. But an eternal loss is eternal. It cannot be washed away. There is only a finite level of despair that can make us cry. Beyond it, there's stark loneliness, grief. And no tears. Yeah, she couldn't cry more.
___________________________________
*************************************************
Baffled, she woke up with near teary eyes and a gravely tense look. The blanket went flying off to the floor and Khushi ran for her life, till she was standing besides her mother in her room, offering countless prayers of gratefulness to the almighty. Her eyes refused to look elsewhere, they were searching for an assurance which only that calm face could offer.
"I love you mom," Khushi whispered. Old eyes do not sleep the sleep of a baby. Mom woke up and was about to raise her questions, but Khushi interrupted.
"Mom, can I sleep with you tonight?"
"Of course baby, come. But what happened, you woke up to some nightmare?"
"I love you mummy. You mean the world to me. Please never leave me alone. Never ever," Khushi murmured with almost teary, closed eyes and a pale smile.
"No my child, I won't leave you ever. You are my world beta!" She was puzzled, but still knew, all that her daughter needed then was assurance. And the sudden splurge of love had only heartened her more.
"You know baby, you're such a kid. An innocent kid."
"I'll always be so for you mommy. Even when I become a granny".
She grinned naughtily and slept the most peaceful sleep, in the world's safest place.
- Her mother's arms.
PS- Love is a feeling, an emotion. Expressing it won't add anything to it, nor would not expressing it take anything from it. But, no one is going to stay with us forever. So leave no chance to tell the ones you love, how much you value them. Time waits for none, you being no exception. So love the loved as much as you can, lest you have to repent later. For even as we continue to pray for some-ONE, some others continue to care for us, ignored yet uncomplaining.
It takes just a few words, a hug, a kiss or a simple gesture to show to someone priceless, their value in your life. Love is simple and priceless. You just need to love it.
-Dedicated to the one I love the most. The person who is easiest to make happy. A hug is all that it takes. :)
By,
12 comments:
Such a heart-warming read. Someone a bit more emotional than me, and they'd have started crying during the dream. Just because of the way it's been expressed.
Regarding the story-writing attempt : story writing is a different form of writing from what we normally do... And the most difficult part is describing things and writing conversations. You did the first thing well, the second part showed inexperience.
Well d story is so touchy dat if read 4yrs back i wud hav started crying. But still my heart felt heavy.
The 1st sign of maturity is the sense of realization dat develops in us, d sense to examine our faults and rectify our mistakes. When we can find d true reasons behind a person's(our closed relative) activity we respond quite cautiously.
This story is a perfect piece of reality dat most of d college going girls/boys witness but very few of them (like u) r able to figure out d real concept. Wonderful effort.But a long way 2 go. And must say such stories r really invited 4 plays. God bless u!!
Well my eyes wud hav gone wet if i had read it 4yrs back but still I felt my heart heavy.
The 1st sign of maturity is d sense to analyze ur own mistakes and 2 follow a positive approach towards rectifying them. When u can make out d true reason behind a person's(closed relative) activity u tend respond more cautiously.
The story is a complete piece of reality dat most of d college going girls/boys face but very few (like u) r matured enough 2 figure out d real concept.
Must say a gr8 attempt but still a long way 2 go. And such stories r wildly applauded in form of plays. So keep writing. God bless u!!
It does take a setback like this or a nightmare to make us realise how ill-treated our loved ones are.Only when we come to close to losing someone we realise their value.We tend to take things for granted and also people's love.A nice way to emphasize this mistake..
Well-penned story... :)
I related to it more than anybody for am a frequent sufferer of such nightmares about my luved ones..mom daughter relation more so special... simple and sweet..:) :)
wow....nice one. On one hand you are right...we should always tell someone that we care about them...even though by simple expressions/actions. But it's not possible for everyone to do so. some people find it difficult to express themselves. In their hearts, they do care...they just can't say it.
But I think, in a true relationship, even if you don't tell how much you care, the other person will always know. It's the way, relationships are.
@Tanay- I understood, what you're trying to say. And you know that I did. :P
@Arnov- Though it feels great to have been able to connect with the reader, sadness in any form is disheartening. Nevertheless, thanks for your valuable advice, I'll keep it in mind. :)
@Rinaya- Glad you liked it. :))
@Anita- Yeah, it's the same for me. Thank you so much. :)
@Ravi- Thank you for arriving here. You too are right in saying that not everyone can express it, but to be wanting to express one's love, is a feeling complete in itself. If an extra effort can work out, why not! As I said, it's not going to add anything to the love that already exists, nor will take anything away. One can always at least try. :)
awesome..
i so very related to it...nothing in the world is mre assuring than mom trying to chill you out..and nothing is more depressing than her rejecting something..
beautifully written...normally i dont lyk any emotional story or anythn but dis is definitely an xception....could relate sum parts of it to myself(m nt a gal after ol!)...but wt i wanna say is its really osum..:-)
@Snigdha and Varun- Thanks so much to both of you. Am glad I was able to connect. :-)
simply awesome
i never read such long post but this story kept me going till the end. Love the post I agree expression can change relationship, it can change world!
Post a Comment