Mother

My first piece!!

It was raining very heavily that day. The clouds sent from heaven afar, had gathered upon our village, 

threatening rain till eternity. The cattle in the shed stood calm and chewed away everything and 

anything they had accumulated, in their herculean belly the whole day. A strong breeze blew the dust 

away and a cold, chill swept over me. I felt a chill down my spine. It left the seven-summer kind inside 

me shivering; I got up and ran to our kitchen-the fireplace my only solace.

My mother, a lady I loved and saw as the definition of myself was sitting by the fireplace. Her eyes, 

weary and tired but still radiant looked at me and a smile came to her face. I went and sat near her, the 

motherly warmth comforting me from the cold outside. My shorts that I wore yesterday were there, 

resting on a makeshift support. They had to be dried to be worn to school today…….my mother was a 

lady of great ingenuity.

The rain has subsided, but had left behind a pool of water in front of my house, wearing a shirt and a 

khaki short I made my way across the “aangan” and took a few more steps and looked back. My mother 

was standing at the door waving at me and with the other hand adjusting her head cape, lest she anger 

the elders of the house.

The sun was out, the white puffed clouds were scattered all across the sky. It wasn't exactly a clear day, I 

would say it was murky. I was having my lunch packed by my mother, a humble meal of “roti” and 

“sabzi”. I had just about finished it, when I saw a familiar figure waving out to me. It was my uncle-the 

elder brother of my father, he called for me from outside the crooked fence of the village school.

I ran to him and as I came near he picked me up and started to run towards our house, I didn't say a 

word, God had not granted me that gift. I kept looking at him, as he just ran on that slippery, muddy 

road. I could see water trickling down his eyes.

We reached home, everybody looked sad and the atmosphere bore a gloomy look, I walked unaided 

inside the house, as the darkness grew, I found myself in a room where people stood around a bed, and 

in between the legs and arms of the elders, I saw my mother lying on the bed……she looked frail and 

weak, she had been like dis the whole year but today she looked like a pale shadow of her old.

She called me near, but I didn't budge. Someone gently tried to push me towards her but I didn't move. I 

didn't want to get close to her, a very strange sense engulfed me and before anybody could realize, I 

started running away……I ran…just ran….on the way out I bumped into a man dressed in white English 

clothes…..but I didn't bother to see who he was…………………………..I ran till I reached the river and there I 

sat on the wet soil, clutching it with my fingers…………………………

Today, sitting on a rocking chair in my house, I see clouds have gathered outside as Mumbai embraces 

yet another monsoon……and the memories come rolling back…….my mother is inside lighting an incense 

stick praying to God for my well-being………..people called me her “sautela beta”…. I wonder what that 

means…..even my mother is oblivious about the meaning….:-)

Author's Note

Be free guys, just throw in what you did not like and what you did like.