I spent today morning with my sons Rituraj & Rishiraj.But they are far away, in their school in Rishi Valley in south India, while I'm in Calcutta!
For a long time, I'd been deferring the termite elimination at my family house. A few days ago, I saw that there had been a new termite invasion in one of the rooms. So I immediately called the pest control company and gave the go-ahead for the elaborate treatment. The work began today, and so I stayed at home to attend to that.
I had to move all the things in all the rooms, away from the walls. In my sons' bedroom, moving their desk, I came upon their footprints on the wall.
And in my bedroom, behind the large mirror-dressing table unit - hanging from a cross-piece, like a victory flag, was a T-shirt of Rishiraj's. I visualised a no-holds-barred brawl between the boys, with someone having hurled the T-shirt at the other, with decimatory intent. I know the path of a projectile in a vacuum is parabolic. So allowing for the change in parameters, the T-shirt-missile had taken some kind of path and slipped through the crack of space behind the un-moveable mirror unit - and stayed there, who knows for how long.
Also behind the mirror unit - the mystery of the once missing chocolates was partially solved. Strewn there, away from anyone's sight, were the chocolate wrappers, conveniently chucked behind the mirror to ensure certain non-discovery.
"Don't dirty the wall!"
"Stop this fighting this instant!"
"Who's gobbled the chocolates?"
But when I came upon the footprints, and the suspended T-shirt and the hidden chocolate wrappers - my boys kept me company as I plodded on dejectedly with the arduous business of moving things.
Did I miss them!
So I sat down and wrote a letter to Rituraj and Rishiraj - telling them how they had given me company through a morning's hapless work, with the telltale signs of everything they should'nt have done. And that I was glad for that.
6 comments:
Lovely post, Rama. Exquisite little meditations, the footprints, the t-shirts, and candy wrappers. And, bless you and your family, that your sons will grow up surrounded by their dad's tender heart.
By the way, your comment section was disabled most of the day....a common Blogger event.
Excellent story which shows the tenderness and exasperation involved in a parent's love.
I really get upset by houses which are like show cases, where everything is for display. I see no signs of life and the living.
A little disorderliness brings life into the interiors saying we have people living here we have children living here, this is not a museum.
Thanks for visiting my page Rama, but your comment moderation is a huge wall for me to cross. its your page afterall.
nice post - thank u for the link
That was very touching!
Thank you!
soon i will be seperated from my boys too and so i drink each moment i spend with them knowing it will be these memories which will sustain me while we are apart. to day we played soccer together on x-box while it rained outside and stopped us from doing the real thing. they know very little of the depth of love that i experience for them as i was oblivious of the same feelings in my father so many years ago. but i know now and one day they will experience the same.
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