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A MIDSUMMER’S LOVE TALE
Sure enough as soon as I entered the house through my side entrance, my mother walked into my room. She had apparently been waiting for me.
‘Where have you been beta (son)?’ she enquired sounding most concerned. ‘I thought you’ll come back straight to the house after your office.’
‘Oh Ma (mother), just went to meet a friend of mine.’
‘Oh, I know, you must have gone to meet Rahul, who else?’ she exclaimed and knew she was bang on.
I nodded my head in agreement. ‘No one knows me better than my Mama.’
I pulled her cheeks in a burst of maternal love, and she broke out in smiles.
‘Leave me alone; you are not a small kid now, are you?’ she was embarrased but happy.
‘But for you, I’ll always be a small kid, my sweet little Mama.’
‘My baby,’ she cried as she lovingly stroked my hair. ‘
May God bless you with abundance in life’
A mother’s blessing is what I needed at this difficult time.
‘Have you had dinner Ma? Let’s go have dinner in case you haven’t had it.’
I led her towards our dining hall.
The doctor had in fact told her to have her dinner by 8 o’ clock but invariably if I was late she delayed having it.
I didn’t approve of this as she was a heart patient and a punctual food habit was a must for her.
At first I thought I’ll discuss the topic of Sohana with her but sensing this was neither the time, nor the occasion was right, I let it pass.
Instead I enquired how her day had been and she delved deep into her travails with the servants.
Having a big house is in itself a challenge and then being able to manage it well was indeed a daunting task.
A task which I felt my Ma had been performing diligently. Even when my Dad was alive, never had I seen him bother about daily happenings in the home, my mother took care of everything so well.
I kept listening to her and knew instantly it would indeed be difficult for both of us to leave this city. The bonds were pretty strong for both of us……
It’s not only the old who get attached to their memories, but also the young...especially if the memories are those connected to an old house, relationships, or things.
I couldn’t be so unattached to all these things myself…..after all, my entire childhood had been spent at this place, my existence had come into being here, my schooling started from this place.
Come to think of this rationally I was equally attached to these memories as my mother was. I would be fooling myself if I denied this.
Our house was one of those big sprawling bungalows. It was a joint family property and my other siblings were all a part of the inheritance after my father had passed away.
All the persons had a share in the property. It was because of this there were misunderstandings in the family from time to time.
It was actually weird how property and money had this uncanny knack of creating disturbances in the best of families.
Parents build homes so that the whole family can stay together, but the same family rips it apart after the death of an elderly parent.
They start treating it as any other house and not the home which had been built so lovingly by their parents. A home where people can live in peace and harmony.
For many it becomes simply a place to be destroyed, sold off to make money.
I sincerely wish God would provide mankind with this much sense and understanding that homes are not meant to be destroyed, only to be lived in.
Blessed are those households where the adults growing-up don’t attack each other only for their share in property;
They sit peacefully and settle matters; some even going to the extent of giving up on their own rights to safeguard that of others.
End of Chapter Thirty - A Midsummer's Love Tale
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