“I’m going to miss this place. Do we have to leave?” “Yes” the voice came from the other end of the room. I un-valued that person and started packing all my stuff in hurry. She said, “Wait let me help you.” And I threw the bag at the corner and in a loud voice asked her to go back. She is my 72 year old mother. We are leaving our home to shift to another place after my 84 year old father’s death. Packaging those almira materials I found a diary with a note. My name is written over it. It is written by my father for me. In it, he wrote;
“
Dear Arnav,
I know you and your mother are not much comfortable with each other. Last two years were very difficult for you both. Many issues were created between you two. You didn’t even talk to her over phone calls. I don’t now how much time I’ve with me. See my son, your mother, she was too young when she was married to me. I was much more year older than her and couldn’t give her the real love and respect she’d ever deserved. Seeing this happening again with her I couldn’t resist myself writing this to you. Please Arnav, I know she’s hard to you, but she loves you more than me trust me.
I hope after me, you’d look after her and take care of all.
With love,
Your father.
“
I sat restlessly on the rocking chair. She knocked at the door for me to come. The driver is waiting for us to leave. I held her hand in mine and comforted her. She just hugged me as tightly as she could. I could feel her warm eyes dropping each tear so reluctantly that even my shoulders couldn’t observe. Still my heart sensed her all pain of father’s depart and home and me being too rude to her. I smiled at her with warmth in my eyes and so does she. Today, I got my mother back and she got her son.