Mother’s (Father’s) Son

Rani looked at the mirror closely, trying to catch a proper glimpse of her pale face. The white sari that adorned her slender body projected out like a bundle of white polyester cloth shabbily draped around. Her attire alluded to her state of mind, and the people around imprisoned her in the dark room of the widowhood. Her eyes were dark pools of fear and apprehension about the future days to come. However, her only son Unni’s smile kept her weary eyes burning with hope and courage to face the life ahead. Her husband had a violent and ignominious death in the hands of an affluent and rich man from the town. The police convinced Rani to refrain from pursuing the case against such goons, as they found it futile to fight against them. They made her to believe that justice often shied away from such assailants.  Rani knew about her husband’s fight against the corrupted rich class in the society, but was unaware of the impending danger he had already brought upon him. Her husband’s premature death had already destabilized her for she was too young to handle the hardship of the life along with her toddler. However, she was determined to live on the soothing memories of her late husband who sacrificed his life for a noble cause.

Today is Unni’s birthday, a day they celebrated with fun and frolic until last year. But today Unni is not at home for the celebration. Rani looked through the wrecked windowpane expecting his return, but it was in vain. The empty and narrow path that led to her old house looked deserted as usual for she hardly had any visitors treading along the unused path. She kept her gaze steadily at the narrow path without losing her hope, but she could spot only a mongrel whining stridently and rushing across the lane-way in hurry, as if being pelted by some naughty children. The neighbors found it rather prudent to keep her away while accusing her as a disgrace to the locality, well a widow deserves it, all said. Holding onto the windowpane tight, she began thinking back about her recent past, her rather happy life with her dear son Unni. She was soon lost in reminiscence that unfortunately caused her to feel blue.    

……………….

It was a dusky monsoon evening; the sky was already painted in black as the thick clouds mated each other producing vivid lightning and loud thunders. The incandescent bulbs hanging from the ceiling began oscillating while flickering steadily lead-in the possibility of a power failure. The wind began sneaking through the broken door frames carrying with it the fragrance of wet mud. Rani was searching for a match box to light the candle while calling Unni to join her to trace them out. The wind grew stronger displacing the dried leaves that adorned her courtyard. The boughs of the trees surrounded their house began producing shrieking noise trying to stabilize themselves against the gush of the gust. The aged leaves that could not hold on to the boughs anymore let loose their grips and were carried away on the shoulders of the wind. She kept calling Unni, but received no answer. Disregarding the quick change of the weather, Unni was busy preparing for an unanticipated journey. As a loud thunder shattered the rhythm of the rain, the power abruptly divorced the filaments of the old incandescent bulbs that had lighted up the clumsy rooms pushing the stately home into pitch darkness. Unni wanted to cash in the failure of electricity which brought in complete darkness, perhaps the best opportunity to scoot from his home.

Unni was always been a chatter box, but of late Rani noticed a gradual change in his nature. It all started when he began attending the college. The cheerfulness and agility completely vanished from his innocent face making him thoughtful and moody. He chose to remain in his room locked up and often found reading voraciously. Rani kept asking him about his well-being for she was anxious of her son’s sudden change. “I am good maa, got to read a lot”, this was his ready-made answer for all the questions. Occasionally, he was seen irritated and agitated about the people around. She considered it as his exercise of tantrum and ignored it conveniently. He began completely ignoring his mother, and this merciless act of snubbing and cold-shouldering pierced Rani’s heart. She realized with a shock that her son was drifting away from her. However, she pretended before Unni that everything was fine between them.

With a quick thud of the thunder the rain embraced the earth, pushing the left-over light of the dusk behind the distant horizon and wreathing the surroundings with cold claws of the rain. The silver lined raindrops competed each other to kiss the ground in haste while the plants around shivered in freezing cold. Unni hurried hastily with a bagful of merger belongings and got into the rain. He was determined to leave behind his mother and home as he fled covertly. Rani was unaware of his disappearance until she failed to find him around. Even the rain played a spoilsport rubbing off his footprints from the courtyard. She had been waiting for his return but her anxious waiting never found any fruit. She often wept with a tinge of regret for not caring her son adequately, especially when he began keeping himself aloof. She couldn’t diagnose that those restive moments of outburst and annoyances were the initial symptoms of his drifting away from her dear mother. Her monotonous waiting for her son, looking through the window resembled like an apprehensive woman peeping through the window at a cortege carrying the dead. The mysterious ambiance in her house wore clunky and deplorable look. It rained cats and dogs simultaneously it did so even in her heart, and it always brought back to her the fond memories of her beloved boy.  

……………..

The empty pathway awoke in her the memories of her worthless life that she was treading all alone. Her sweaty palms holding fast to the windowpanes began losing its grip. She had managed to arrange a cake for her son’s birthday. The cake left opened on the table looked deserted failing to attract even house flies and ants. It was almost sundown and the monsoon sky began busily preparing for a downpour. The cool raindrops bid farewell to the huge belly of their dark mother clouds and hurried to the earth. Rani’s face was lit up by the intermittent quick flashes of lightning. Suddenly she heard a cry, someone from a distance sobbing. She immediately recognized the sound; it was her son. She saw Unni’s obscure face in an abrupt flash of lightning, he was standing at the entrance of the house, completely drenched in rainwater and shivering like a leaf. She ran to him with a towel to dry his beloved son.

“Oh! Unni where have been all these days? You are completely drenched in rain. I was waiting for you, and I knew you would come for sure. Don’t you know that today is your birthday and you are turning 21 my boy”.  

She began wiping off water from Unni’s hair with a towel. He spoke nothing, but looked at her and smiled.

“Look, I haven’t eaten yet, come let’s cut the cake first and have our dinner together”. She said it in excitement.

“I have prepared your favorite payasam and aviyal and I want you to ear stomach full.” She began talking loquaciously.

She served two plates of rice and the curries. Unni cut the cake meanwhile she sang for her son. After having a sumptuous dinner Unni stood up in tears. He embraced his mother and kissed on her forehead. Rani could feel the warm tear drops drenching her forehead. She too couldn’t hold onto her tears anymore; she was in tears for her son. She remembered his childhood habit of offering a warm kiss to her before he retired to his bed.

“I have got back my son who was lost.” She screamed in happiness.

Rani held his son close and slept at an unknown hour of the night. The rain continued its fury lashing out vigorously.

It was too late when she woke up from her sleep. She thought Unni must have been already awakened by the touch of the early sun rays. She went to the kitchen and brewed two cups of coffee.

“Unni, Unni…where are you?”, she called out loudly.

There was no response.

She went everywhere in search of Unni, the bedroom, washroom, courtyard…but Unni was not found anywhere. She went around her house in search of him, she consoled herself telling that he must have gone out for something.  

As she got into the house, she picked up the newspaper and opened its first page. With a loud cry she threw the paper away, the paper carried the bullet filled body of her son flanked by two more abandoned bodies. The title read, ‘Operation Red: The hunt for the Naxalites still continue.’

The cake had begun attracting houseflies and hungry ants. They feasted on it with merry. Of course, Unni was his father’s son too, but chose a wrong path to prove it. The widow has turned childless now.