• Published : 11 May, 2014
  • Comments : 7
  • Rating : 4.3

It has been years now that my son has shifted to America, leaving me and his father alone here.  I clean his room every day and each day I drive down through the memory lane. His medals, his certificates, all his belongings left behind. Everything fills me with a lot of pride. How happy he was at the prospect of going to USA. He was an ardent lover of science and I would like to believe he still is. All those things he had invented as a learner are my souvenirs until he returns. He has a wife and two kids now, big man, I assume extremely busy with his work as well. I often have this urge to find out why he has stopped paying us a visit. May be being a scientist is a tough job. But being a good son is little tougher. He remembers to call us and that heals our wounded heart. 

His wife is an Indian too, I am blessed he didn't opt for an American wife. I said opt because the institution of marriage has become more of a business, than actually being together, being each other’s companion in life’s ups and downs. As I sit by his medals, I remember the way he would sit by this small lamp next to his bed and stay up all night so that he could be the best. He loved being the best and would never be satisfied with anything that was less than perfect. After all he is my son. As the monsoon sets in, those memories that I have of him come rushing by, they almost make me twinge with the desire to hold and bring back those days. Ah! Gone are the days when our hearts were young and gay. We loved getting wet in the rains and always made sure we were out splish splashing, enjoying the pour. His father would scold and frown not approving our endeavors. But one angelic smile on the little ones face would melt it all. My son was like the glancing moon. Handsome and charming, and I know he still is. My granddaughters naturally are beautiful and royal, how I wish I could meet them often.

I wish he pays us a visit very soon. Time has caught on us, we are well over the hill and I am no longer sure of the days left for me and his father. In a few days time, it will be his birthday; I remember how he relished eating cakes. He would plunge on cakes, especially on chocolate ones. I miss him immensely these days. May be because I have just a few more days left; before I set out on my awaited journey. Cancer you know. He doesn’t know yet that I suffer from cancer.

His father asked me not to harass him with the news. And somehow I thought it was right, I don’t know the reasons why I agreed on not informing him. But come to think of it, my son was happy, well settled and busy with his life; and that's all we wished for. He mailed us the pictures of his princesses and his family and that is the only way, which connects us to them.  

The wait for my son will be endless I know, for I do not have too many days to count on. I wish someday soon, at least my granddaughters will convince their father to come and pay us a visit. Till we meet again, my heart will beat and bleed for them.

About the Author

Niyat Parekh

Joined: 30 Apr, 2014 | Location: ,

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Down The Memory Lane...!!
Published on: 11 May, 2014

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