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The Story of a tormented mother and a grown-up son

It was getting late enough to be worried. I once again stepped into the balcony and looked down. Except for a drenched street dog that was lying down miserably near the gate, there was not a soul to be seen anywhere. Rain water had puddled under the lamp post. A breeze ruffled the mango tree in the courtyard and a few twigs fell down and broke. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Did I hear a soft knock at the door? I turned back to see a lizard straining to numb the housefly it just caught landing on the door.


I looked back at the clock to find its hands locked together in a tight embrace. They seemed to mock at my state of utter helplessness by feigning a witty Namaste. I walked back to the balcony to see if there is any sign of life out there. It was not the first time that Vikram hadn’t returned home. However, that day was different as I had a rift with him in the morning, minutes before he left for college. It was his day of results and I asked him not to come home with a sullen face and a disappointing score card. He told me that days had changed and that it was just impossible for him to fail that year.

Apart from everything else, it was his final statement that left me worried throughout the night. “Don’t worry mom! I am not going to show my sullen face to you again”, he said as he left. The words didn’t seem to affect me in the beginning but as the light started fading out, they kept repeating in my mind hitting me harder with each passing hour. I knew it was it was all, my fault. I should not have troubled him so much with my stern words. Staring at the deserted street on that stormy night I had no other option but to weigh hope after hope on his safe arrival in the morning.

Since evening I have been calling up his friends but none seemed to know his whereabouts. I called up the college landline but there was no response from the other end. His phone was out-of-reach since evening and even my efforts to trace his location failed as he unchecked his location finder. That meant he purposefully stayed away from me. However that also meant something else. That he was in perfect consciousness and shall return home once his anger subsides. That thought relaxed me a little as it washed off the other troubling thoughts like self-immolation which had been haunting me for the past few hours.

Vikram was not just a son to me. He was indeed my life-line. He was the one who kept my heart beating when his father left me forever to live in this merciless world. The acknowledgement of his presence was what kept me away from radical thoughts like ending my life to join his father in heaven. In this heart-less society which had no decent place for single-parents, I struggled day and night to bring him up on par with his peers. My struggle was to never let the society’s scornful ways to hurt his tender heart. In the process, I spoilt him a little more than needed and that finally made him into what the society always professes for a single-parented child to become; a reckless youngster with neither empathy nor sympathy towards any living being on Earth.

What if I was wrong? What if someone had trapped him? I suddenly woke out of my slumber and picked up the phone. His location was still untraceable. The latest thought shook me to the core. What if his phone was taken away from him and him…? I couldn’t even dare complete the thought. How could something like that happen to my son?  No. That was completely out of my imagination. I ran to the balcony to see if there was any movement out there. Once again I was unsuccessful. The roads had dried up from the evening’s shower but the chilling winds of the midnight air were leaving a frail trace of dew on the ill-lit tar.

I stood staring at the deserted road for a while and suddenly in a reflex I placed a call to the police station. A drowsy voice answered my desperate call from the other end. Unbothered by the latter’s careless answers; I narrated the entire story to him and asked him to immediately initiate a search operation for my missing son. He dreamily heard my woes and finally told me to stay cool and call him in the morning if my son didn’t return till then. “Don’t take a hurried decision madam. Ladka aa jayega” he said in an affirmative tone. Though his affirmation relaxed my pace a bit, it couldn’t last for long. I immediately took out my phone and called a journalist friend. After what seemed to be another painful fifteen minutes of narrating the entire tale, the answer from the other end was again the same. In the same drowsy voice my friend assured me, “Banda aa jajega. Don’t make an issue out of it”.

Issue! Was I making an issue out a petty scene? It was my son missing since afternoon and there was no god damn soul to at least take in the seriousness of the situation. I thought of taking up a social media campaign right away. But somewhere from the depths of my heart, I personally didn’t want to make an issue out of it. What if he suddenly shows up? He would be very upset with me for ruining his image among his friends. I put the phone down and once again leaned back in the arm chair to relax my battling eyelids.

It was not more than fifteen minutes when I woke up to the ring of my mobile phone. The police inspector on the other end was stern. He directly let out the information onto my un-expecting ears and soon after waking up from the fall that followed, I ran to the police-station to confirm the news. Why would Vikram be on the National Highway at that hour? “A dare-game”, the inspector told me. A dare!!! I could hear myself repeating first within myself and then to whosoever cares to look at me.

Why would these youngsters always fall prey for such ruthless dare-games? How could they under-value their lives so much? Would they ever think of the people that were supposed to live in the vacuum that they were going to create in their lives? Above all how could Vikram do it to him?

“Vikram was dead” the thought kept haunting me.

Vikram! You couldn’t do this to me.

Vikram!

I woke up in a start. The clock struck two in the morning. ‘A nightmare’, I realized as an after-thought. My hair was all shrivelled, my clothes unchanged. I looked at the mirror to witness my horrifying look. I went to the washroom to take a quick wash. Walking out of the washroom I once again moved to the balcony. Once again, there was none to accompany the drenched dog. It was cowering under the fallen hoarding. I moved into the house when I suddenly turned back. Have I seen someone walking alone on the road? I rushed back to the balcony. There he was. Vikram!

“Vikram”, I shouted behind him. I ran to the door, unlatched it and rushed to the ground floor.
“Vikram, I’m coming. Forgive me for all I’ve said in the morning. Forgive this ignorant mother for causing harm to your sensitive soul”, I ran onto the streets to find none on its deserted back. The watchman woke up at my cries. He hurried to my aid as I collapsed on the empty road running behind nothingness calling out for my son. Within no time the entire apartment was aware of my situation. People came in with suggestions and complaints. Finally a majority of them had the same thing to say, “ladka aa jayega madam. Don’t worry”. 

I was accompanied to my house and after an hour’s discussions and deliberations everyone left to their homes to catch a quick nap before waking up to welcome a new dawn. I however kept staring at the dark sky until it turned from black to purple then orange and then a little yellow to bright blue. The sun rose with full grace but my son hadn’t returned home. I couldn’t decide if it was the right time for me to blow the whistle. The deadline for the Ladkaa aa jajega madam seemed to have ended by then. Slowly I stood up to change into fresh clothes before leaving to the police-station to lodge a complaint. I walked to the balcony to catch one final glimpse of the now streaming road when I heard the door-bell.

I couldn’t control my happiness on seeing him. It was almost like the nightmare I had last night. The only difference was that it was a better dream with a better taste. I pinched myself to make sure that was not dreaming. It hurt. No, I wasn’t dreaming. Vikram pushed me aside to lounge into the sofa. I walked to him and slowly asked him where he was all night. “Party mom, I got through the exams”, he said before dozing off in a hangover. I went onto my knees and sat thus beside him for so long that my legs couldn’t even realize that they were numbed ages ago.

Was I happy that he returned? I don’t know. Was I angry that he didn’t bother to tell me where he was? I don’t know. I just sat there like every mother that faces this situation at least once in her life when her son considers himself to have grown up enough to stay away from home without any intimation. Next time when a desperate mother comes rushing to my home asking for her missing son, I would hold her hand and look straight into her eyes and say, “Ladkaa aa jayega madam. Don’t worry”. 

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