The hour long walk

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

 I was fourteen and in an unfamiliar locality with strangers and acquaintances less interacted with around me. The place was beautiful yet the fear of having none to confide in or have a hearty chat with disabled me from soaking in all that the place had to offer. And while I ponder upon the have-nots of the moment, walks in the most attractive person I had seen in ages. He comes and sits beside me. With a good physique, wavy and long hair falling all over his forehead, a satchel on his back and a camera around his neck, the stranger comes and sits beside me. I steal glances of him, the fear of being caught staring occupies my mind and then…. it happens: our eyes meet. I observe that he is just a few years older than I am and yet is unusually confident of what he says and does: a character I admire in people.

The bus comes to a halt and the hour long walk to the caves begins. My teammates sense my desire to walk with the stranger by my side and they let me. Overwhelmed, I move out and find the stranger still waiting for me. We had still not shared a word and yet, somehow it clicked both of us that we should spend the next hour in each other’s company. The guide keeps on narrating the rich history of the majestic place we had set foot in but by now the stranger was no longer a stranger to me. He was a person with a name and with eyes that twinkled every time he smiled and talks that could mesmerize even an unromantic person as me.

That hour gave me innumerable memories, memories to be cherished and treasured in the days, months and years to come. Little did I know that even seven years of contact post that one hour was insufficient to make a bond last a lifetime. And then, just like that, without any warning or a goodbye, a phone call took him away. It was the last time I had seen those twinkly eyes.

We were constantly in touch even after I returned home and went to the next town for further education. The distance between us hardly mattered to us until one fateful day when differences started showing up. Each thought the other was wrong, each wanted the other to apologize first and then…just like it had begun - unasked and in an unexpected manner, the love that united us was gone…..taking him away from me.

No amount of pleading could bring him back and therefore I moved on. Then some months later, I received a note from him asking me to revive the bond but by now I was a young woman of twenty one, too strong to be affected by emotions once abandoned. And thus the game of turning each other down continues but in our heart of hearts, we are both aware that we rule each other’s minds ever since the day of the hour long walk.

Mom, I promise

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Whenever dad left for some place far to accomplish some task, I had tears in my eyes and she always asked me 'Will you cry the same way if I go to some place far?'. When people asked whom do you love the most- dad or mom? My answer was never her name. Ironically, she has always been the one who stood up for me and rubbed my tears. At times, even dad failed to understand my point but not once did she overlook my likes and preferences. That's what my mother is - epitome of selfless love. Someone who expects nothing in return for all that she does.
But have I reciprocated? Did I help her clean up the kitchen when she was exhausted after a tiring day that was spent mostly cleaning the mess I created? And as disgraceful and ungrateful as it is, the answer is 'I always had more important things to do'. As I recall the many conflicts we had over the years where I thought and felt that mom nagged and was keen on finding my faults, I realize that it was never her who was mean but me being immature and heartless with my words. The realization overwhelms me and I am utterly clueless as to what can compensate for my rude behavior to the one person I owe my life to. Perhaps there is nothing that can mend things that are messed but there are certainly things that can prevent any further pain that my harsh words which are spoken impulsively can cause. 
Yes. A promise is what I need. A vow to be kind to my mother. A vow to keep a check on what comes out of my mouth. A vow to not hurt the person who has already borne a lot of pain to get me where I stand today. If I can be sweet and soft spoken to the whole universe then why not to my mother? Out of all the people, she is probably the only one who would be there  by my side when the whole world turns against me!
Mom, I promise to be a good daughter to you henceforth. I promise to not be a reason  for your distress. I promise to make you proud. And here's my answer to your question: If you ever go to some place far, I wouldn't cry, for that will mean that I'll be alright after a few minutes or hours or days; I would be devastated and would probably never laugh or smile again. 
Happy Mother's Day Maa!!! I know I've never told this to you but Maa, I Love You.