“When I was of
your age, I would walk 5 kilometers to the school”, Said the mother to her 6
year kid.. All he could do was just hear and utter no word… his eyes watered…
The tears refused to get out of the socket though… The elderly figure, his
mother, raised him singlehandedly… In a hut, big enough to make them play
two-rolls-over-each-other game, this was his motherly love share…. She used to
go clean society houses to survive.. Her husband was a drunkard and was gone
away long back..she was thankful for the plight as it meant less liabilities for
her… She dreamt her son to be an officer one day..
Years passed… Everything was stagnant….Except for their
ages… One fine day, when she was busy making her son’s favourite dinner, some
car horns caught her attention.. This was rare.... she hurried to see what that
was… there, her son, 30, in his white shirt tucked neatly in the black
trousers was standing next to a white Ambassador car with a red light over the
car roof, SALUTING to his mother and more importantly his idol and only source
of inspiration.. “This is for you ,Maa”, he cried his heart out that day in her
arms…
