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It’s been exactly a year since he had left her alone after spending more than fifty years of togetherness, sharing all those discrete moments of hope and despair which together forms the bouquet of life. Her final moments with him just before his death are still afresh in her memory when he had promised her to come back and as their hands joined together to form a cusp of agreement, its warmth went away forever.
Life has never been the same ever since then, weakened by age and dampened by spirits she counts her remaining breath lying on that couch waiting for her moment of redemption which will unite her with him.
“Mother, here comes your grandson, we are back from the hospital” her son’s voice instills a spark in her and her eyes shine brightly as she takes the little one in her arms – his soft touch and his body’s warmth appears so known to her.
A teardrop rolls down her cheek and merges with the bleak smile on her face as she rests herself back on the couch, never to rise again. . .it's the bedtime she has been waiting for so long - her moment of eternal sleep, her moment of redemption, her moment of re-union.
~Shubh Life . . . Om Sai Ram
© 2015 Manish Purohit (Reserved)
Heartfelt thanks for visiting here. . . While the thoughts are woven with the strings of the words, what remains to be seen whether they do manage to form a bridge for you to cross and listen to the beating. And if it does, do drop in your beat in the comment box . . . it always feels great to hear from you :)
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