The Letter.

Dear Sehr,
I will be long gone by the time you read this. I’m not even sure
whether you’ll ever read this letter. I’m sorry, extremely sorry, for
I had to leave you and go away, forever. But I had no other choice.
Had I stayed, your father would have made me see hell. I’m sorry, for
I had to leave you alone in your journey. But remember, my child, I
love you. No matter what. I’m sorry to have deprived you of the love
that every child deserves, of the support that every child wants, and
of the guidance that every child needs. If you ever happen to read
this letter, remember, that I’m still with you, and you’re not alone.
Let me tell you one thing, Sehr. Life is not a bed of roses. You have
to make tough choices, at every step. You have to let go of things you
love. I’ve always made the wrong choices, all my life, this one too,
seems equally wrong. I hope I won’t be regretting it.
I love you.
PS-> I shall be waiting for you, in case our paths ever happen to cross.
Loads of love and good wishes,
Mum.
--------------------------
I crumpled the letter in my hand, my face devoid of any expression. I
was numb. After all these years, her absence had come back to haunt
me.
It was a constant struggle, trying to live my life on my own terms, without having someone to watch your back. Sometimes, you just can't brush away the absence of a mother.
I was told she died in an accident, when, I do not know. They had
lied to me, kept me in the dark for all these years. No, I did not
want to confront them, nor did I not want to ask them why they had hid
it from me, because I would be finding that out on my own. It was as
though a hundred spears were piercing through me, but I felt no pain.
I was two years old, when she went away (That’s what I was told, now I
doubt every word they utter.). I do not have any memories of her; no
pictures, nothing.
*That night at dinner*
“Grandma, do you have any pictures of mum?” I asked, fully knowing as
to what the answer would be.
“Keep quiet and eat, Sehr.” Said my aunt, sternly.
“What? Is it a crime to even ask for her pictures? Don’t I have the
rights to see my mother?” I’d asked them for her pictures almost a
million times, and every time, I was silenced, but not today. It
looked as though a new spark had been ignited within.
“Don’t talk to your elders that way.” Said my grandmother. I smirked.
Before anyone could even respond, my dad joined us at the table. I had
never really been close to him. In fact, I’d never been close to
anyone in the family.
“I heard your conversation with the others, Sehr. Why do you always keep
asking for things you know you won’t be getting?” he said, as my aunt
served him rice.
I was too busy playing with my dinner to respond to him.
“I’m going to Hyderabad the day after, a trip with friends.” I said.
“And no, I don’t really care about your ‘permission’.”
“What are we to you, Sehr?” asked my father, in a fake pleading tone.
“Insignificant.” I said, in a matter-of-the-fact tone.
“What is our opinion to you?”
“Irrelevant.” I said, as I walked to my room and calmly closed the
door, as the others were left gaping. My ‘family’ had once threatened
to throw me out of the house, I wish I’d left then. It’s all a matter
of choices, sigh.
The sunlight blinded my eyes, as I began walking along the windy path.
I plugged in my earphones, and the music began to play. “Everything
that kills me makes me stronger.” Said the lyrics. If this was
practically true, I’d be a superwoman by now, with all credits to my
family.
My world was little, yet beautiful. It comprised of people who I had
grown to love, and who were my only support. One of them was my
counselor. She’d been with me since my school days, and I valued her
more than my family.
“What’s up, counselor?” I said as I entered my counselor’s comfortable abode.
“You should’ve informed me you’re coming over!” she said as she
cleaned the mess that was her living room.
“Too lazy. Plus, you like surprises don’t you?” I grinned.
“How are things at home?” she asked, her voice now showing concern.
“Why talk about that when we can talk about other normal things?” I
replied, irritated.
“Sorry, I just wanted to know if you’re fine.”
“I am, don’t worry.” I said, smiling. She was one of those few who cared.
After a hearty lunch, and our weekend movie ritual, I bade goodbye to
her, and started along the way back home. My mind began to wander, as
I absentmindedly stroked the tattoo on my left wrist with my right
hand. I had got inked when I was 16. “Brave” it read, in Gurumukhi. I
had made a lot wrong choices in my life, this one, somehow seemed the
sanest. It reminded me that bravery was the key to overcome your
fears, and overpower your weaknesses. I was brave.
The road was dimly lit, and surprisingly empty. A football match
tonight, I thought. And suddenly out of nowhere, a fast-paced vehicle
appeared, and even before I could analyze the situation, I was lying
spread-eagled on the road, my body bruised in various place. A man
came up to me, he seemed to be asking me something, I could not hear.
Silence was ringing my ears, and my vision had begun to blur.

I woke up to the sound of several beeps, which seemed to come from the
dozen machines that surrounded me, trying to keep me alive. My head
still felt heavy, and it was as though I had lost all sense of my
limbs. The door creaked open; someone in white entered, and darkness
overpowered me.

I felt someone’s touch, as I opened my eyes, still groggy.
“How are you?” said the doctor, smiling.
“I’m fine.” I was tired. Of what? Maybe sleeping.
“You’ll be good in a few days. Nothing serious, you just need a little
bit of rest.”
“Right, can I have something to eat?” I said, as I surveyed my
surroundings. Too much of white.
She nodded, and summoned for a nurse. In the meanwhile, she continued
inspecting me with a scrutinizing look on her face.
“You look like your mother.” She said, all of a sudden.
My head jerked in her direction, my mind buzzing with questions. Who
was she? How did she know my mother?
“Don’t look so surprised, Sehr. I was your mother’s friend. In fact,
it was me who handed you over to your mother when you were born. You
have her features, even her hair texture.” She said, oblivious to the
storm that raged slowly within me.
“Tell me more.” I pleaded.
“She did not have a very happy marital life, your mother. They were
rude to her, all the time. She couldn’t adapt to their way of life.
Free soul, she was, never liked to be confined. But her in-laws were
hell bent on caging her. No wonder she went away.”
“Do you know where she is? Did she tell you where she was going?”
“No, she didn’t tell anybody. She just disappeared, one day. There was
a message from her, a month after she had gone, but she hasn’t
contacted me ever since.”
The little ray of hope that had emerged, was now gone. Just then, the
nurse entered in, with hot soup in a bowl.
“I’m not hungry.” I said, and pulled up the covers, and drifted off to
blissful sleep. At least that would keep me away from reality.