Miss you, Mom.

As I write this, I’m travelling out of town for few days and the hardest thing I have done in the last couple of weeks is to wish my mother a goodbye tonight.

I’m 38, happily unmarried and mourning.

After my dad’s unforeseen demise in the early hours of 4th November last year, my quotidian world has narrowed down from two individuals – my parents, to just one – my mother. A caring younger sister and brother-in-law, their adorable 6-year-old daughter Charvie very tiny bunch of close-knit cousins, two friends Krishna and Shiv who will stand through thick and thin and a biased heartfelt care for someone in particular make-up my extended personal world.

As the distance between me and my home in Bengaluru get’s extended with every passing mile, an aura of deep desolation has started to engulf my soul. Slowly, my heart is getting heavier, my fingers are turning cold and I’m feeling helplessly empty.

She is 64, sadly widowed and mourning.

Since my dad’s death, now my mother’s world revolves solely around her home. She keeps herself occupied with a bit of reading, watching television, cooking and everyday chores. With a tradition that does not allow a woman to visit any other home for 12 months after her husband’s death, the only time my mother get’s out of the house is for her daily walk. Once or twice a day she speaks to her daughter, sisters and few relatives on phone. Once in a while some of my cousins visit home.

On the other hand, I spend 6 to 8 hours away from home. I have things and means which can keep me occupied at worst of the moments – there are books, music, internet, a laptop and a smartphone with access to unlimited possibilities.

Right at this moment, I feel selfish for leaving my mother behind and travel all by myself. Given half a chance, I want to turn around, get back home, look at her surprised face and assure my mother that I never want to leave her home alone, never again.


Her, him and me.

There was something broken inside her, something she had held tight in her bosom till this morning, something very precious. Maybe it was her trust on a man she had believed from the time they had met three years before, or it could have been the hope that was allowed to build up in her heart as she started to spend even more time between his arms. Or, maybe it was both the trust and the hope that he had ruined inside her. Either case, he had lost her, forever.

She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a very plain white top. There was nothing spectacular about her appearance; and yet she looked adorably attractive. Her eyes were shining, the lips were tiny, and even in that heartbreaking moment, she looked vivacious.

As she sat in the corner with a steaming cup of coffee on the table, she wore her earphones and started listening to his favourite song. When she took the first sip, the coffee tasted little bitter to her liking. A sigh went up against her throat, her mouth turned dry, a strange sense of hurt overtook her mind and without any warning, his name escaped from her lips. For the first time in last three years, his name sounded sour to her ears. Funny that it had never happened before.

Pausing the song in middle, she opened her Facebook profile, changed the relationship status to Single and waited. She could see him online.

Her phone rang, his name flashed on the screen and with a contented smile, she cut the call.

She had made her point, and she felt good.

Sitting in the other corner of the cafe, I continued to glance at the ever-changing expressions on her face. As she tossed the mobile carelessly into her bag, I couldn’t help but get up and walk towards her. I wanted to sit with her, buy her a fresh cup of coffee and ask if she had broken up with him the way I had just seen in my mind.

Deep down in my heart, I wanted her to say yes, and I wanted her to be single.