I was walking down a mysterious alley, clutching my mother’s hand. What place is this? – I was thinking to myself. Empty and deserted, garbage littered everywhere. Silence surrounded us from all sides. Where are we? And what had happened to everyone? We take a sudden turn and enter a huge old building, which looked like an old church that was being used as a hospital or some kind of refuge. I don’t know why we are here. What work does mama have here?
As we walk around, I see many people sitting and lying around. Men were less. It was mostly women and children. No one seemed injured or diseased or anything. They just seemed sad and lonely. Some sat alone, while some sat in twos and threes, and from what it seemed, discussed their woes and sorrows. Are these people refugees of some kind, or relatives of the war victims? – I didn’t get a clear picture. I felt like asking mama, but by the serious look on her face, I rejected the idea. She looked intense and mysterious, as if she was here for a particular purpose. I’ve never seen her so grim. I notice the bag she’s carrying in her right hand. I peeked and take a look inside. It was a luxury meal packed elegantly, with some envelope attached to it. Why is she carrying that with her, I wondered, that too in a place like this? The people here seemed so gloomy and not so well-off; it might seem like a slap on their face. Hmm… Who knows, maybe she has something in mind.
We walk up to a bed. Two women, dressed in their faded and ragged clothes, are sitting and talking over there. As we reach the bed, one of them stands up immediately, and her face suddenly lights up; she has a hint of a smile on her face. In the whole room, this was the first glance of happiness I noticed today. She looks at my mother as if she knows her well. On the other hand, mama still looks dreary. The woman walks up to us, holds my mother’s hand, and asks, “Is there any news? Did you find out anything?” What is she talking about? Find out what? Is this woman a friend of my mother’s, or did mama volunteer here once in a while? – There are so many questions swimming around my head. After a minute of silence, my mother clears her throat, hands the bag to the woman, and says, “I was told only to give you this.” The woman takes a glance at the bag’s contents, and slowly but clearly, the slightest smile she had on her face disappeared. She just stares into the bag for a while, as if it’s the most shocking and disturbing thing she has ever come across. A drop of tear trickles down her cheek. She lifts her head and slowly whispers, “He’s dead, isn’t he?” My mother didn’t respond. Maybe the woman got her answer. She holds my mother’s hand again, flickers a Mona Lisa smile, and says, “Thank you for coming, and letting me know personally. Thank the company for the meal. The only good food I get in two weeks, at the cost of his death.” She walks towards the wall five feet away, falls down on her knees, hugs the bag in her hand tightly, and lets out a loud wailing cry that echoed across the room. The sound of it was so painful. Who did she lose? Was it her husband, or was it her son? It had to be one of these two, I guess. Or maybe a really close friend or a brother; it’s possible. I suddenly began to empathize with her situation. I started analyzing the relationships around me; if I lost any of them, whom would I be really sad for? Let’s see. My friends. Hmm… There are many friends, some close and some not so close. Would I be sad if any of them passes away right now? I will be sad, of course. But to think practically, I won’t stop living completely. We’ve had our good times and bad, ups and downs, we have been there for each other. But I guess, I’ll slowly move on. A friend can always be replaced, if the need arises, and only in the chief aspects of company and support. Then, my father and my brother. I do love them, who doesn’t? But I guess, we’ve drifted apart all these years. Don’t know what exactly, maybe egos, pride and misunderstandings got in the way. We’ve been talking lesser and lesser as years have gone by. So, if a moment arises that I come to know of their death suddenly, how would I feel? There are so many memories, mostly good, but most of them are in the past. We’ve barely talked to each other in years, so what would I really miss about them? The silence? Hmm… Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on them. Then, I turn and look at the person standing next to me. My mother. Mama. We’ve had our issues, and we abuse and fight with each other almost regularly. But at the end of the day, I know she’s one of the kindest souls I know. She says and does most of the things out of love. She may have a strange and irritating way of expressing it, but I’ve grown to understand the intentions behind them. She’ll always be there. No matter how much we fight and argue, I can always go and talk to her, or lay on her lap. There’s no ego at all; we never keep grudges or woes, and we always let go of our anger within minutes. I can always count on her hand to cling onto. I shuddered at the thought of losing her. Without realizing it, I tighten the grip on mama’s hand, and my eyes begin to moisten. My mother looks at me, wipes my eyes, and says, “It’s okay, son. She’s strong enough. She’ll move on.” She didn’t know the tears were for her.
I suddenly wake up, drenched in sweat. Where am I? It’s my bedroom, I guess. It’s just afternoon. Was it all just a dream? She’s really gone, isn’t she? And there I was contemplating at the Thought of losing her, when she’s already gone. Now what? How badly I wish this was the dream, so that I can wake up from this nightmare. There’s no use of fantacising now. I can’t believe a month has passed by already. I guess, I have to move on… and live with the fact that there is no hand to cling onto anymore.
Akash Sebastian 