Letter to Maa
I’m fine, maybe a little exhausted.
It’s been a long and hard way, surviving half a decade without you; trapped between your memories and a destitute present.
There hasn’t been a single moment when I didn’t crave to lie on your lap and sleep contentedly, for once I miss you Maa.
I go through the old, worn out albums, in an attempt to relive the forgone moments, trying to grab the waning ends of lost threads.
The fateful day you left, they consoled me, “Time will heal everything, you just have to be strong.”
I’ve tried my best, been strong throughout, yet time hasn’t shown any mercy. The ruthless seconds tighten the noose around my throat and I flail around to find your tender hands.
Why did you have to go, Maa? Was it really because God needed you to look after him, as I was told? Why can’t he take care of himself? Doesn’t he know that I need you much more than he does? I am way more insensible and immature than he would ever be.
Do YOU miss me? I know you do! Do you look down at me from the sky? Do you see me finding your reminiscences in lifeless objects?
Meanwhile, I shall be turning twenty five next week, and somehow I still feel like five when I think about you. A five year old boy who ran to his mother’s arms when he got hurt. Who do I run to now?
No pain can be as unbearable as the loss of you. There’s a void in my life which will stay forever. I miss you, Maa.
They want me to get married, settle down and have my own family. Little do they know, my family were you and Baba.
I can’t explain or justify myself. But the idea of getting married, knowing you won’t be there during any of the rituals feels suffocating.
I don’t want to complain to Baba and burden him with my problems anymore. He has finally made peace with his fate, and apparently found comfort in his solitude. I don’t want to disrupt his life once again. Besides, we rarely exchange any words.
I’ve seen him staring blankly at your photograph hung in the bedroom; perhaps he misses you, but I miss you more Maa.
Witnessing your Mom die and seeing your Dad cry, are the worst situations that any child has to go through. Nothing any worse affects me now. Life has become a string of periodic sighs and monotonic routines.
Baba hasn’t shed a single tear since that fateful day but he isn’t the same anymore, nor will he ever be. He doesn’t laugh or smile now, he’s been living for the sake of living. His soul went along with you, leaving charred remains of the past in his surviving body. I try taking care of him but it makes him irritable, he wants you.
There’s a persistent ache in our hearts and there’s no escape to it. I cherish every single moment I had spent with you, needless to say, I deserved more.
But I am a fighter, you used to say, maybe some day I’ll find solace from the grief until then I just pray for you to be happy, wherever you are.
Maa, I love you with all my heart and soul.
– Your Bravest Son.
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