Home Sweet Home

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic


This is an excerpt from my collection of short story collections named as Home Sweet Home.If you LIKe it do comment.Hope my otherwise jejune efforts spark a change.

Submitted: December 08, 2017

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Submitted: December 08, 2017

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HOME SWEET HOME

 

So she stood there at the nook of the two-roomed bijou apartment her son had bought .Amongst the many valuables in the house  , a meek individual whose face and utter veneer had been inundated by the ravenous fingers of the sluttish time, bow-backed ,she looked at the wall , a photo of Abhimanyu’s father, then stared at the indifference in  the eyes of her son seated blissfully beside his irate wife. Gnarled up with age and sodden with patience ,she had inured to their dyspeptic whims.

Satipriya , in oblivion , took a last look at the wall hangings ,the urbanely cladden wall paintings by Shekhar Roy and at her brown wrinkled hands. These arms  ,she thought to herself , had once nourished
Abhi , when he used to sit on her laps , and utter in impalpable dialect the little rhymes he had learnt in school. She was afraid to send him to crèche .The tinnitus of his puny rhymes that he buzzed all day rang back at her ears .

But her uxorious son never gave a second thought .Her room in Tollygunge homes would be big enough to suffice his Maa , he thought .But her heart , her wishes , her cherished dreams to play with her grandson were now but pipe-dreams .She was just an obbligato in their dull tune of life .

This boy ,once , used to sit on her laps and utter and listen to stories of Shirsendu Bandhopadhyay, these same arms used to caress him, feed him and in rare cases, punish him. Such gleeful days they were. Growing is part of life. Abhi had grown up. He had now a house of his own  , a wife of his own and a would be father. The thought of caressing her grandson  , playing with him , telling him all tales and fables , brought an intractable streak of smile on Sati’s face. The more she thought  , the happier she got. But deep within her heart, amid this reverie,  she knew she had to leave .

Now Abhi has a family, a child . Their apartment is small, not large enough to accommodate his diabetic mother .It was his first year in college when  , Upamanyu Ratan ,Abhi’s father died in an  abrupt anaphylactic attack leaving behind scarce policies and insurances for his helpless wife to fall back upon. But by god’s grace or the arrant veracity of the blazing struggle of a widow and a MOTHER,  Abhi could survive his worst tide.

She packed her bag .Tomorrow she must go, go to a place where she would meet more like her who have been  written off by their near and dear ones.Her raison d'être wanted her to leave.

Sati rejoiced with only an idol statue of Lord Ganesha to witness her mirth ,her  tears .Keep my grandson happy.

 

 


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