I'm venturing into a new genre of short stories. Hope my friends and readers will like my effort and I also would appreciate their opinions and suggestions.
The Gift
It was really such a relief. To get out of a stifling, claustrophobic relationship. It was almost like being married to a stalker.
Life was just an unending saga of accountabiity, answerability and living to another's expectations and orders. " Where are you going"? What time will you be back? Don't wear this dress. The breakfast was too bland." A never ending tirade of questions, criticisms and instructions. She never got a moment to do anything just for her own pleasure. Her day was a grind, ceaseless activities of domestic chores, looking after the son's studies, tending the garden and ......... the list was endless. At the end of the day, her fatigued body was almost ready to drop down. She would fall asleep, the moment she hit the bed. She could never get to see her favourite soap on telly, partly because she didn't have the time and the energy and more because her husband was glued to the super bowl or then the football. In some ways, it provided her some respite from his autocratic and dictatorial regime.
She never got any time or the liberty to visit her brother who lived about 200 miles away. There was the occasional connect with him on the phone and that too was a perfunctory exchange of formalities. He was not doing too well and had his own trials and tribulations to deal with. Blood was probably just a shade more viscous and the viscosity was fast decreasing to the point of evaporating. She knew she could never really expect much out of her sibling ever since her childhood. Her brother though elder to her was almost autistic. She had resigned to the realisation that he was more a liability than any asset. The only consolation she took was from the fact that ever since her marriage, he never asked her for financial or any other form of assistance.
It was well over two decades since the sentencing that was euphemistically called as wedding.
Her son had recently joined a graduate program and moved to a small apartment in an adjacent town. He insisted that she moved with him. He convinced his father that it was important for his mother to be with him. His father was of late seeped into alcohol and was scarcely conscious by the end of the day. He ate a measly meal of a sandwich or a burger and his obese form and poor hearth had snuffed out all other needs.
The mother and son moved into the teeny apartment and the very next day, she took the strings in her hands. The chores were essentially the same but there was a sense of liberation as she cleaned up the cupboards and set up the kitchen.
She was in her own zone after nearly 23 years.
She cooked the first meal in the new house and it had an aroma of love, the warmth of her care and garnishing of her affections. She quickly laid the table and waited for her son.
It was very cold outside and her son arrived a bit late after picking up some blankets and warm clothes.
He quickly removed his shoes, had a quick wash and changed.
As he walked into the room, he gave a neatly wrapped gift to his mother. She was rather taken aback by his gesture and her eyes softened.
She gave him a warm hug and picked up her gift. She was all excited and her eyes were full of glee. As she unwrapped the gift, a tear dropped on to the pink wrapping paper and smudged the freshly inked "Love you mom"
It was a small cubical box. She was wondering how could her son afford to buy her a gift with his meagre allowance. She was so overcome with emotions and her trembling fingers opened the box.
She was visibly disappointed and equally puzzled to see it empty.
She asked her son the meaning of this gift that was just an empty box.
His answer made her break down.
He said " Mom I've seen you living such a restricted, cramped up life right since my childhood. You never could live your life that was almost an exercise in altruistic masochism. You never had the time or the space for yourself. This box that you feel is empty actually contains the most priceless gift that I can give you. In fact the best gifts are the most subtle and intangible. The Gift of Space, space for you to be yourself. Space that doesn't ask questions, nor demands answers. Space to breathe fresh air. Space to grow and discover your self.
The Gift
It was really such a relief. To get out of a stifling, claustrophobic relationship. It was almost like being married to a stalker.
Life was just an unending saga of accountabiity, answerability and living to another's expectations and orders. " Where are you going"? What time will you be back? Don't wear this dress. The breakfast was too bland." A never ending tirade of questions, criticisms and instructions. She never got a moment to do anything just for her own pleasure. Her day was a grind, ceaseless activities of domestic chores, looking after the son's studies, tending the garden and ......... the list was endless. At the end of the day, her fatigued body was almost ready to drop down. She would fall asleep, the moment she hit the bed. She could never get to see her favourite soap on telly, partly because she didn't have the time and the energy and more because her husband was glued to the super bowl or then the football. In some ways, it provided her some respite from his autocratic and dictatorial regime.
She never got any time or the liberty to visit her brother who lived about 200 miles away. There was the occasional connect with him on the phone and that too was a perfunctory exchange of formalities. He was not doing too well and had his own trials and tribulations to deal with. Blood was probably just a shade more viscous and the viscosity was fast decreasing to the point of evaporating. She knew she could never really expect much out of her sibling ever since her childhood. Her brother though elder to her was almost autistic. She had resigned to the realisation that he was more a liability than any asset. The only consolation she took was from the fact that ever since her marriage, he never asked her for financial or any other form of assistance.
It was well over two decades since the sentencing that was euphemistically called as wedding.
Her son had recently joined a graduate program and moved to a small apartment in an adjacent town. He insisted that she moved with him. He convinced his father that it was important for his mother to be with him. His father was of late seeped into alcohol and was scarcely conscious by the end of the day. He ate a measly meal of a sandwich or a burger and his obese form and poor hearth had snuffed out all other needs.
The mother and son moved into the teeny apartment and the very next day, she took the strings in her hands. The chores were essentially the same but there was a sense of liberation as she cleaned up the cupboards and set up the kitchen.
She was in her own zone after nearly 23 years.
She cooked the first meal in the new house and it had an aroma of love, the warmth of her care and garnishing of her affections. She quickly laid the table and waited for her son.
It was very cold outside and her son arrived a bit late after picking up some blankets and warm clothes.
He quickly removed his shoes, had a quick wash and changed.
As he walked into the room, he gave a neatly wrapped gift to his mother. She was rather taken aback by his gesture and her eyes softened.
She gave him a warm hug and picked up her gift. She was all excited and her eyes were full of glee. As she unwrapped the gift, a tear dropped on to the pink wrapping paper and smudged the freshly inked "Love you mom"
It was a small cubical box. She was wondering how could her son afford to buy her a gift with his meagre allowance. She was so overcome with emotions and her trembling fingers opened the box.
She was visibly disappointed and equally puzzled to see it empty.
She asked her son the meaning of this gift that was just an empty box.
His answer made her break down.
He said " Mom I've seen you living such a restricted, cramped up life right since my childhood. You never could live your life that was almost an exercise in altruistic masochism. You never had the time or the space for yourself. This box that you feel is empty actually contains the most priceless gift that I can give you. In fact the best gifts are the most subtle and intangible. The Gift of Space, space for you to be yourself. Space that doesn't ask questions, nor demands answers. Space to breathe fresh air. Space to grow and discover your self.
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