"Amma, should I pickle the mangoes? You love mango
"Don't take the trouble, Neha. I have stopped having
"She is so enthusiastic", sighs the old lady. "After-all she has
a new life", concluded the senior citizen.
"Munna, drink your milk. You will grow up to be a strong
boy", said the doting grandmother.
Neha and Munna will leave for Pune after two days and the house will be again empty as
her heart. How different it was three years ago. Her heart and the house was filled with
happiness and laughter. She would prepare evening snacks and tea and the dining table
resonated with the happenings of the day. She was so active and full of energy. Until
that fateful day dawned, which snatched away her will to live. Neha was weeping
inconsolably with Munna in her arms. Relatives and friends had gathered to pay
condolences. After the final rites they were left grieving. Neha joined office while she
took care of Munna. Her little grandchild was her solace and succor and her life
revolved around him.
Neha found love again. She did not approve of the relationship but she kept mum. How
can Neha forget her first love? Can the new man in her life, love and care for Munna
with the same fervour as his biological father? Couldn't Neha remain single for the sake
of her only son? These questions plagued her mind and she felt miserable.
Neha understood the old lady's anxieties. She sat besides her and took the wrinkled
hands into hers and lovingly said,"Amma, I can read your mind. My first love will always
dwell in my heart. I just made a little space in my heart for the new person. Life is a
Tears trickled down her eyes. How selfish she was! Wouldn't she expect her son to re-
marry in case of Neha's demise? Why was she having double standards? As a former
teacher she had always stood up for gender equality. Now was time to implement it in
the true sense. She wiped her tears and got up.
"When you will come to Mumbai again, Munna?" , asked the
grandma as Munna touched her feet.
"Very soon , Amma", replied Neha. "After his final exams,
we will be shifting to Mumbai for good".
When God closes one door , he opens another door. There
was no place for grief, thought the old lady.
I'm Writing Bravely for the Write Tribe Festival of Word - March 2019