Mother
As you age, life is supposed to speed up not slow down. Not in this fast paced world.
I have aged, slowly and gracefully. The worry lines and laugh lines of a mother etched deep into my face. It has been years since I have seen my son. My husband didn't approve of his choice in a wife. I never understood why it mattered, he was our son, our only child. We watched him grow up, a spoilt irresponsible boy- until he met her. She brought out a more serious side of him. I saw the change, my husband saw the change, we approved of this. Our son had aged wisely we thought. We never knew the cause behind it.
Love. You would think age would bring wisdom on this matter. The only unconditional love age knew was a mother's to her son. Age didn't understand love that would pull a son a 1000 km away to start a family of his own. Age always knew what was best for the son.
He had brought home a Hindu girl. A pretty young thing who he met at his work place. He loved her he had said. My husband's rage was unforgettable. He asked my son to leave and called the girl names that I had never heard him use. I walked toward them and she fell at my feet for blessings,- a part of a culture that I'm not used to. The sweet child didn't forget her manners through my husband's yelling.
She never left my son's hand even once. She silently stood through my husband's wrath. I remained wondering if he had forgotten that he loved his son. "Leave my sight. Come back alone, or never come back." He had left. The girl's family had accepted the Muslim boy and the news came of the legal union a week later. According to my husband, we never had a son, for me, I never lost a son.
He never forgot to call me once in these 5 years. My secret calls with my son aged me even more than I could ever imagine. My beautiful son had a baby boy of his own. I told my husband that his non existent son had one of his own. I do not know if he heard or cared. I knew I could never see my grandson.
Father
As you age, life is supposed to speed up not slow down. Not in this fast paced world.
I have aged, slowly and gracefully. The anger lines and laugh lines of a father etched deep into my face. It has been years since I have seen my son. My wife didn't understand why I didn't approve of his choice in a wife. She thinks I don't know about the secret phone calls. It is the only way I know my son is safe. We watched him grow up, a spoilt irresponsible boy- until he met her. She brought out a more serious side of him. I saw the change, my wife saw the change, we approved of this. Our son had aged wisely we thought.
Love. You would think age would bring wisdom on this matter. The only unconditional love age knew was parents' to their son. Age didn't understand love that would pull a son a 1000 km away to start a family of his own. Age always knew what was best for the son.
He had brought home a Hindu girl. A pretty young thing who he met at his work place. He loved her he had said. I had heard about this and had been so warned by my community. I had to shun them if I needed to live here. Age had not brought me wisdom then. My only son and I ostracised him. When news came off his marriage, I was glad. He would be happy. But my wife thought that I didn't love my son. I'm sure even my son thought the same. It was a sacrifice a father had to make. Age had taught me that much.
I knew I left my son in good hands. She was a strong girl. She didn't forget her traditions in the midst of all my fury. I approved of her in secret. My wife felt she lost a son, at least that's all she lost. I lost a son, and the love and respect of a son.
He never forgot to call my wife once in these 5 years. Her secret calls with my son aged her even more than I could ever imagine. In bed last night, my wife told me about my grandson. I will send her to see him soon. My son is alien to me. I knew I could never see my grandson.
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