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Thursday, May 24, 2018

THE FLOATING DIARY (Short Story Journal – 7): DEAR MAA…

Maa… This word, this sound, resonates like music in the hearts of every living human, and I am no exception. However, one exception does exist and I must note it down here, today. I have had the good fortune of being brought-up and nurtured by not one… but two mothers!

Born to Mr. Bhuvan Singhania and Mrs. Bhavna Singhania, I must say that I had an exceptionally beautiful childhood in our family of four members! I say four members, because my family is incomplete without the mention of Aunt Padma! She is the first cousin of my father, and I heard that she used to live in Mussoorie, before her wedding with Major Samrat Kumar at a very tender age of 21 years. However, within a few months of her marriage, major Samrat was martyred in battle and Aunt Padma became a widow. Unable to bear the grief and shock, my father decided to bring her home, to live with us. All this happened a few years before I was even born. So, by the time I saw the light of life on earth, our family comprised of Baba, Maa and Aunt Padma!

My Maa, Mrs. Bhavna Singhania gave birth to me as a little underweight, pale looking baby whom everyone was shocked to see. My Maa was worried about whether I would even survive a few days! However, Aunt Padma never had a doubt. She was stubborn in her determination to make me a strong young man and expressed her will right from the first day! Amid all the calamities in her life, I came like a ray of sunlight, a glimmer of hope and she embraced me with all her heart. She refrained from getting remarried and gave her firm decision to live the rest of her life with us. My Baba was helpless while my Maa lovingly accepted Aunt Padma as her sister and gave her a share of me!

Maa used to say, “Pravin, Aunt Padma is my alter ego! She is my mirror image. You are both of our son! You’re a lucky boy, Pravin, you have the blessing of being pampered by two mothers! If ever I am gone, she will be there for you…”

Days passed, years flew by and I grew up under the tutelage of Maa and Aunt Padma. They protected me, they punished me, they guided me, they scolded me, and made me the man I am today. I spent the lazy afternoons of childhood days listening to stories narrated by Aunt Padma or songs sung by my Maa. My pocket money was always double… a portion being supplied by my Maa and the part being sufficed by Aunt Padma from her late husband’s pension. While watching a horror movie, I used to sit between my two mothers and alternately hide my face in their respective laps, while they laughed heartily at my behavior. Whenever Baba used to be angry with me for my pranks, my two mothers would stand like walls of stone in front of him! However, later I would receive a double quota of scolding from them for my deeds! Every “Mother’s Day”, I made two cards, one for Maa and one for Aunt Padma! Unknowingly, I filled an empty void in the maternal being of Aunt Padma.

As I grew taller and stronger, I saw my two mothers growing older and weaker. I often questioned an unanswered question, “Why are you growing old? I don’t want you to become old. I want you to remain the same, always!”

Yet, the inevitable happened, and two years ago, I lost Maa and Baba in an accident. The grief overwhelmed me and I was completely shattered within. The loss of Baba and Maa, together, came like a thunder from nowhere and struck me! My only support remained in Aunt Padma. A few months later, aunt Padma suffered from a severe heart attack and her moving abilities were severely curtailed. I was again in a state of despair, but was contented that she somehow survived. I determined myself to take the best care of her and arranged for everything possible. At night, every day after dinner, I made it a point to sit with my old Aunt Padma and tell her about the stories that unfolded throughout the day. She is feeble now, she is weak, but her heart still blooms with love. She places her trembling hands on my cheeks and showers her love on me before I go to sleep.

When the news of my amnesia got revealed, I noticed a strange change in Aunt Padma. Even though she is physically weak, there was a spark of sudden strength that emerged from within her subconscious self. Her eyes, that were waning with every passing day, suddenly gained a glitter! She is trying hard to regain her mobility! I didn’t expect this and was surprised by this metamorphosis in her.

Today morning I confronted her and she replied with an elusive energy that shook me literally. She said, “Pravin, god has given me a second life! Within a year, you would be a child again, my boy, and it is my duty to ensure your proper upbringing... again! It is a promise I made to Bhavna and myself and I cannot repudiate it. Don’t worry about me… your Aunt Padma is strong as ever! I will fight with the almighty and live extra years, before I am satisfied that my little Pravin is independent again!”

Tears came out from my eyes, but Aunt Padma (the one who is usually the emotional creature) didn’t shed a single one. There was a determination in her eyes while she took her walking stick and paced within the living-room and said, “I have to walk now, so that my limbs become rejuvenated. But do you remember what day is today?”

I gave a somewhat blank look at this sudden question. To this, Aunt Padma patted on my shoulder and said with a smile, “Boy! Today is Mother’s Day! Go and make two cards as you always do! Keep one under the photograph of Bhavna and give one to me!”

I wiped off my tears and got up. I went up to my writing desk and in the next one hour, finished two handmade cards. I placed one under the photograph of Maa and gave the other one to Aunt Padma.


Inside both the cards, I could only write, “DEAR MAA…” Nothing else can be written, ever perhaps, in return of the love that this ethereal being showers on her children!

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