Gambling with Life

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Archive for September, 2012

My ONE son

Posted by Rojit on September 18, 2012

It was Monday afternoon and after his school, I walked with him till our home. On the way we met the same ice-cream bhaiya and yet today, my son said nothing. His eyes said plenty, his lips couldn’t hide and still, remembering the last night scolding from his grandma, didn’t utter a single word and we quietly passed by the bicycle with loads of ice-creams. I stopped walking and asked my son why he wasn’t asking me to buy an ice-cream like most of the times. Like his modest mom, he replied with his eyes not able to meet mine and his right foot dragging the surface, ‘‘ Papa, I’m not hungry today. I’ll have it tomorrow. Okay?” I said, ”OK son,” but knew exactly what had to be done. I shouted out loud at the ice-cream bhaiya and he came running with my son’s favorite ice-cream with vanilla flavor. I finally saw the smile I always wanted to see in my son’s face. I stroke his hair and made a pinky swear with him never to tell his grandma. And moments just like this, would make me forget the inevitable….even though just for a while!

It was 23rd of December and we were celebrating his birthday, yet again. Like other kids, he too had wishes and like other fathers I too wanted to fulfill every wish of his. So, I always asked him to write down 3 wishes of him every night just before his birthday so that I could wake up early in the morning before the dusk and try arranging all the three wishes. As usual, I woke up very early in the morning and the first thing was to see his wishes which he wrote down in a sheet of paper he tore from his school calendar. And as I quickly opened to see his wish, I was dumbfounded to see his wish. He was there still sleeping with such a tiny sound coming from his mouth and yet the most innocent heart yearns for a thing on his birthday which I could do nothing…nothing at all. Tears so so easily would come – I never expected. ‘Coz this time, he didn’t write 3 wishes. He wrote just one – ‘‘ Papa, I miss my mommy. Can I see her just once? Please bring her when I open my eyes in the morning. Luv you papa. He never mentioned his mom in the last one year or so after his mother’s demise and yet like a thorn that knows only to prick, his innocence has pricked my heart to such an extent I felt these tears could be the savior. This must be the only day in my life I wished the sun would never come up. Because when he wakes up only to find her mom still missing, his birthday will surely go meaningless for him. Completely helpless I was, and sitting besides his bed, I saw my kid deep in his sleep and wish if I could dream of a future of him. He woke up finally and I wished him a happy birthday, kissing his forehead. He saw the gift which I wrapped up from some Toys shop yesterday. He didn’t ask for his mommy. May be he was too happy to see his favorite toy being gifted, may be he was just missing his mom yesterday night, or may be he knew I could never bring his mom back and that he understood me. At the end of the day, I tucked him in his bed and just before wishing good night, he said, ‘‘Papa, my friend Tony says Birthday comes only once a year. But why is that my birthday comes every month? Tony is lying..right Papa?” I replied with a little smile, ”Bung, you are a special kid..!‘ ” He smiled at me and went to yet another sleep, and I stood and watched at him for a while with this heart already glistened with regrets.

Every other week, we visited the doctor and like always, he asked the doctor, ”Uncle..uncle..what happened to me? (Flexing his muscles) I’m so strong..see uncle. Nothing will happen to me” The doctor with the report looked at my son and smiled, and as always, gave him a chocolate which my son simply loved it. He then looked at me and said nothing but the signs became more vivid each week. We thanked the doctor and came home, this time watching an animated movie unlike pizza last week. He simply likes to visit new places and I simply like him being happy, ignorant to the world and just happy with his own life.

And once in a while, I miss his mom the most,  I couldn’t help but remember the day the doctor broke the news to us, which took the life of his mother. And like a helpless person succumbed to the vagaries of fate, I broke down in front of him. And there, he was..bringing out his handkerchief and slowly soaking my tears. And he said to me, ‘‘Papa, papa why are you crying? You told me that clever people never cry. I don’t think my papa is a fool. He is a hero to me. Please don’t cry..okay?!’‘ I cuddled him so hard till the tears got dried. And over there in the doorway, his grandma was standing still, watching us and her saree almost wet with tears. I looked at her and she, at me, and we understood we shouldn’t be crying at all. My son is my hero and no matter what, there won’t be anything dearer than him, lovelier than him and a more rocking person than him!

It’s been two years, 3 months and 11 days and today, I paid a visit to him and unlike the usual unhappy me, I smiled at him today. And I was actually more than happy to have him as my son. I didn’t cry today. I guess I would never. He is still an angel for my life that lost its way long time back. The remaining life, I’ll smile each day with his thought in my mind and shall make this life of mine more beautiful. ‘Coz I know my kid always wants me this way. And as I go back having spent a few minutes with him, I looked at the sky and swore a few slangs to God.

”I love you so much, Bung. And daddy will always be your hero no matter what! Take good care of yourself”

He replied nothing as he was still sleeping a sleep that knew no awakening. My one and only son


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