Skip to main content

Aging wisdom

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.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Blink

  The criminal I look at you. I remember I gave you the chance to break me. I didn’t leave, when I knew I should have. I stopped you when you were about to leave. I let myself be bruised. I blink to see if there are any tears in my eyes. I remember the last time. I had thrown it at you, that book that I had painstakingly made as an anniversary gift. I had thrown it at you, hoping, hoping that you’d see it and you’d know what we were losing. I had begged for forgiveness from you, craving for something I knew we had no way of getting back. I had blinked just hoping the pain would go away. I remember when you had told me that you wanted to be with me forever, when you had promised forever. That blue checkered shirt, with its sleeves folded up, the smell of my favourite deo, the half eaten plate of chicken wings, and that playful yet perfect smile. I had blinked, just to make sure that I captured the moment.  I remember when we had first met, how you’d sat across from me, just wai...
Post a Comment
Read more

The train

The T shirt The morning of my first train journey alone from the city of Bangalore to the huge city of Mumbai, had me seeing the interiors of a train for the first time in 25 years. The last time I traveled by train I was 5 years old. A lot had changed since then. Flights were frequent, my father had made huge amounts of money, and I never had to bother taking the train. But as a 30 year old unmarried woman, trying to prove herself in a patriarchal society, I had cut off from my family- financially and emotionally. I had my hand sanitiser, wet tissues, pepper spray,  packed food (enough for 3 days), and I was ready to fight the germs and the assholes that could be in the train. I was dressed in my ex boyfriend's t shirt which was a few sizes too big, so as to not "entice" the lewd remarks or actions. A woman shabbily clad in a Saree came and sat next to me with her 3 kids and her husband who smelled heavily of alcohol. They were jittery and excited. There was a stron...
Post a Comment
Read more

Reciprocate

The keeper I love you son. You are everything, and anything I have wanted. I am sorry that I left. I couldn't be at home anymore. My heart still aches that I left when you were still holding my hand, you were 7 and too young to understand. I could have come to see you any time, but I refused. But never did I spend a single day not thinking about you, I have supported you through everything, watched you more closely than you can ever imagine. But I couldn't bring myself to face you. At 13 you were bright, topper of your class, your mother raised you well. I just could never bring myself to love her again, I could not stand to be in the same room as her. I am sorry. It was never about you.  At 18, I thought that it was time, should I meet you, tell you how I know everything about you- How you have got into one of the best colleges, how proud I am of you. Should I? But I am a coward, son. I am the biggest coward anyone could ever imagine. Your hand wrapped around my fing...
Post a Comment
Read more