Category : blog

A Maze of Emotions(Part 2)

• UserName
• February 19, 2020

Hardeep’s eyes opened in the hospital,” How is Gary? Hows my Big Bro”? ”All are fine. How are you? How is your back?  You are so lucky that your spine is OK” Doctor was comforting Hardeep.

Gary regained consciousness, next day afternoon. Doctor’s were worried that the cut on his head was so deep that it could have affected the brain or the eyes or some other senses or he would have been paralysed for the whole life. But they were  happy after doing the tests ,”Congratulations, you are perfectly fine. Within a week you will be home. Your sister saved your life.” If Hardeep hadn’t covered him with her body, he would be dead. Gary wanted to convey ‘thank you’ to his sister cum mother, but he didn’t.

There was no-one in the house of eldest brother. The Saint’s dead body was covered in snowy white cloth. He used to like this color the most. He had two sons 14 & 16 and two daughters 18 & 21. There was no-one to comfort them, even their mother was not looking in her senses. She was afraid of her deadly future.

But where is the middle brother? Was he running away because he could be the next target? “One brother murdered, another seriously injured. Conspiracy by third”, the whole town came to know what the newspaper was about. When the middle brother came to know that the cousins were trying to get their property after father’s death. He joined them, because after killing both the brothers he would be the only claimant of the whole empire. But now tables were turned, Gary and Hardeep told the police in their statements about the murderers, their cousins. And the cousins named the middle one.

A month later, Hardeep took Gary to her home. His first impression was, “Are you living here? Are you joking? Two rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom with temporary roof. Why you never told us?”. “When girls are born, they are treated as someone’s ‘Amaanat’. Whenever they are married, parents have a sigh of relief as a lot of burden is taken away.” There was a lot to say but like always she was quite, ”Its easy. I am used to it. Actually my husband is living with another woman, I do sewing jobs for my living. You don’t worry, we can manage.” Saying this she looked like a mountain.

Gary tried to find a job to practice law in that city. Gary started practicing. He was hardworking like his sister. He was earning good. ‘Thank you’ were the two words, but he never said. Their life started running smoothly. But luck had its own games to play.

“I know this is a very small house and my princess can’t live here. I am looking for a big house in a better area. We will shift there very soon.” Hardeep overheard these words which Gary was saying to his wife. “But how can he leave me. Will he? Now he knows my situation. But he should prioritize his family first. Yes, he should move to a bigger house and I will help my little brother.” She was smilingly wiping her tears.

                                                                                                         To be Contd……..

Ø  Brothers kill brothers, where did parents went wrong?

Ø  Treating daughters like ‘begani’, does it make them hide their grieves?

Ø  Mothers, sisters & daughters give everything to their families, do we ever reciprocate?

Ø  Are we bound to share our prosperity with our family members?

Ø  How much should we pay back to our parents or family members, who sacrificed their life just for us? Do we ever notice these members in our life?

You value the things, when they are lost

• UserName
• December 23, 2019

You value the things, when they are lost

“You are enjoying half fee rebate. Even then, till now, your fee is unpaid. Bring it tomorrow.” The fee clerk was shouting and ten year old Deepak was looking at the dust on the floor. He had nothing to say, as he didn’t know whether his mother would be able to pay this time. He shared this with his friends and they started laughing, “What!!  You can’t afford this paltry sum.”

His father was not staying with them neither supporting them financially. The marriage season was over, so his mother had very little work of stitching and alterations.

It was an extremely hot summer day. He was back from school. He changed, went to the kitchen, where his mother was preparing lunch, he told her about the fee incident. His mother got upset and said, “Take the money and throw it on his desk tomorrow. I can’t allow anyone to talk to you, in this way. After all you are my prince.” She was smiling and Deepak was mesmerized. The feeling of humiliation melted away.

He ate to his content, the best chapattis with the best yellow dal. Washed his hands, then dried them with dupatta of her mother and smelled the dupatta. His mother jerked his hand away, “Why can’t you use a towel?” He didn’t know how to tell her, he liked the smell of her dupatta, it had heaven’s fragrance.

There was no double bed in their room. Just two single cots, lying in L shape. Both were lying on their respective cots, the Heat was keeping them awake. He was sharing his school talks, both were giggling, Deepak’s was holding his mother’s hand and after a while he fell asleep. “Ouch”, he woke up, checked his arm, there was a red rash. “Something bit me”, showing his arm to her mother. Mother patted the rash with love and mumbled a small prayer, and he was normal. He slept again. “Oh, no. It bit me again”, now he was looking for the culprit. There were small ants on the floor, coming out of the joints of bricks. But these ants were not on the bed. “Termite”, he shouted and pointed out the small villains to his mother. He stood on the cot, inspected the roof. “Here they are, coming from the roof.” That year, the clay, which they put on the roof, in preparation for the rainy days, must be infected. He looked at his mother, there were big tears, in her small eyes,”Sorry, I can’t give my prince, a good life.”

Now it was, Deepak’s turn, he hugged his mother and happiness filled their room.

Seventeen years later, he was in the same room. He just had a lavish three course dinner. The room was now beautifully painted, a soft n luxurious bed had replaced the ’manjees’. The room was cool and comfortable with an AC. but the mind was having flashbacks ………. The sweltering heat of June, listening to the taunts fee accountant and friend’s making fun, the painful sting of the termite and fragrance of his mother’s dupatta.

He was unable to find out whether two termite bites, boiling hot afternoon and mother’s hug was sorrowful.

Or today all luxury, without his mother, was more agonizing.

Everytime you can’t have everything,

enjoy every moment of present,  with whatever you have….

I don’t believe in GOD

• UserName
• December 23, 2019

I don’t believe in GOD

A burst of bullets hit my father and shattered my life. I was 17 years 04 months 19 days old. A day after the last rituals of my father, my mother complained of a lump in her left breast. I got her check-up done. She was diagnosed with breast cancer.
A day was fixed for her operation. All close family members and friends should be there with us. My elder sister, brother-in-law and their three kids. This was all; I had in the name of close ones.
The operation started in the evening. At around 8pm, a doctor came out of the operation theatre,” We need 2 units of blood.” Being in a good hospital in a good city, I never expected this type of statement. Being an Engineer student, I replied, “You should take it from your blood bank”. “We are short of AB(-)ve, you arrange yourself”. I was AB(+), sister A(+) and brother-in-law’s group was also not matching, kids were too small. “Should I go to Red Cross.”This was my next intelligent solution. “We’ve already checked with them. They don’t have. Please hurry up. We are losing her”.
It was just another patient for a doctor, but how could I lose her? I had not learnt how to live without father and now within 15 days live without mother also, No way. I asked the doctor to guide. He was generous, he told me to check up with rickshaw pullers, outside the hospital. Now I was enquiring from the Rickshaw pullers about the rarest Blood group. Thank GOD, one was there. He took out his GOOD clothes and shoes from beneath the rickshaw seat and we were going towards blood bank. Charges were discussed clearly on the way.
“You donated yesterday or day before also, didn’t you?”, furiously asked the lab attendant and he nodded, keeping his eyes away from me. My last hope was shattered. What next?
I was running out of hospital, with eyes full of tears (how can a 17 year old boy cry).I looked up on the summery, dark but starry sky. “Ki ho gya, kaka?”(What happened, lad?). A dark skinned, 5 feet queer looking sardar was asking me. I didn’t want to reply, why should I? “My mother is being operated. Doctor asked for blood, I have no-one. The only rickshaw-puller, I got, was rejected. I don’t know what to do?” (Asking for help would be below dignity). His next question, “What is the blood group?”. I think, at this question, I dropped a tear saying, “AB(-)ve”. “Don’t cry boy. I am also AB negative. Let’s go to blood bank” (all in Punjabi).
I was speechless, spellbound. He donated blood. Being young and egoistic, I said,” Thank you, what are your charges”. “It’s okay, boy. Go to your mother,” he said, patting my back and went away……
I don’t believe in GOD, I feel HIS existence.

Khushdeep Singh Walia
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