A Tribute to G. Maa

".......I am going to Kolkata for a few days" said mom, keeping the dish on the dining table. She said this looking at Somya, who was still gaping at the plate, trying to figure out what had been cooked for dinner. But her eyes did not look casual, but in fact were expecting something. Somya looked at her inquisitively, more inquisitive about the dreadful looking veggies than anything else. Mom turned around and while going back to the kitchen said, "Your grandmother is not well, her health went bad last night. I'll just get back within a week.... Will you be able to take care of yourself?" Mother sounded concerned. Somya, just like an ideal Indian son, thought that a mother can only be concerned for her son. But he would be all right, rather very good. His mother had never left him alone even for a day. But now was his chance. The sight of mother's dreadfully apprehensive and anxious eyes was replaced by the bright prospects of a couple of free days, spent without any supervision. But somewhere, in some profundity of his heart, he felt a weird stretch; strangely he was not concerned about anyone else.

The plethora of colourful photographs, in the old dusty family album, lying in some dark corner of the wooden almirah, said it all. You could easily make out that who-so-ever might have set the album, must have had a real liking for chronology. Each page represented each stage of Somya's life. The tiny infant, Somya in the laps of his grandmom a little boy Somya sitting besides his grandmom.... the same three year old cutting his birthday cake, being assisted by his grandmom.... different emotions, different moments, but the same grandmother....

PS: U can find the complete article at: http://hubpages.com/hub/A-Tacit-Wish---Tribute-to-G-Ma

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OPSINGH
NEW DELHI

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