Cataract surgery does that to a face. It takes the character and substance
away. The eyes that appeared bigger through powered glasses all of a sudden
look shorn and two dimensional, the face somehow seeming flatter.
Meha looked away, reluctant to acknowledge the welling shimmer in Vani’s
eyes. “You need to sit down,” she gently lowered her friend onto the bed.
The untidy apartment bore signs of a departure. There were old baggage
tags strewn around as also discarded packages of newly bought goods. An untidy
heap of processed food and toiletries laid in one half of the sofa, they had to
be shed so as to account for the baggage weight, the weighing machine had not
moved back to its designated slot in the house yet. And there was that pall
loved ones leave when they bid goodbye, that heart wrenching vacuous hole in the
space they until recently occupied. Vani
was beside herself with grief and guilt, “He is gone. I was so, so harsh on
him! What a terrible mother I have been. Oh God, I told him once I wished I had
not given birth to him. I am downright evil. Cruella, I am Cruella!”
Meha dunked the tea infuser in a big pot, turning to get some fruit from
the refrigerator, “Don’t be silly Vani! Get a hold on yourself. Nobody is a
perfect parent ever, it is too difficult a task. You have poured yourself into
this college admission of his. It is time to look at yourself and get your
strength back. Let’s rustle you some nutritious oats.”
Vani sat vacantly, eyes glossing over at the memory of his packed
luggage along the wall. Her moist eyes paused at the corner where his guitar
had stood, the “fragile” label dangling from the stem cover. His folder of
travel documents had lain right where her hand rested on the bed today. She
clenched her fist, feeling the onrush of another panic attack. A claustrophobic
sensation seized her, making it difficult to breathe. “Meha,” she croaked,
flopping back on his bed.
Meha hurried back with the two cups of steaming tea, “I made Kahwah, it
will soothe your stomach. Do you smell the spicy aroma?” Vani was not
listening, “I was a very demanding and impatient mother, always criticizing
him, calling him a duffer even, hammering at him to become self-sufficient. Oh
why, why, why did I use such harsh words, berating him for not scoring as well
as my cousin’s daughter? He’s gone now. Too late!”
Meha punched the power switch on the brand new laptop, “Here, let’s get
on with our Skype lesson. You have to let go Vani. He is on a journey you
cannot follow him on anymore. I bet he barely remembers any of the horrifying
past you are kicking yourself for. Here, give me your phone, let’s place a call
to your Mum. Talking to her will help ease your mind a bit.”
As Vani held out the instrument listlessly, it stung. A sunny envelope
lit up the screen. There was a message. “Ma! Thank you for sending me to such a great school. I love you. In
class right now. I am at the right place, just as you always dreamed I would
be. Don’t worry. I am telling you. Will do you proud!”
The mother sat up with renewed vigor, holding out her hand briskly,
“Would you hand me that cup please Meha?! What were you saying now about the
skype lesson?”
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