Rishan walked into the room where his mother Jaya was rocking the infant to sleep. His sleep deprived state was evident to any on-looker. Jaya signalled Rishan not to make any sound lest the baby wake up. The last time that the Bose family had re-adjusted their schedule and routine to accommodate the needs of a new-born was twenty-eight years back when Rishan was born to Jaya and Arun Bose. Rishan decided to tip-toe out of the room. His retired Professor father was sitting in the porch, lost in thoughts.
“Baba, the process is going to take much longer than we could anticipate. The only positive factor is that both sides of the family have confirmed their unwillingness to take up this responsibility.”
Looking at the unkempt state of his son, Arun felt a wave of tenderness. In the last couple of days, his son had grown responsible much beyond his age.
Arun spoke, “This was expected. Imran Pasha and Neeta Chaubey had secretly married against the wish of their parents in their village in Haryana three years ago. They had to immediately flee to Kolkata to escape from their families who had attempted killing them after coming to know of their truth. Imran used to drive a taxi while Neeta worked as a cook when I had stumbled upon them being harassed by the local goons in Park Circus area owing to their inter-religion marriage. Just four months in this city, they barely understood the local language then. I couldn’t leave them in that state when I knew that Neeta’s life was in grave danger surrounded by hooligans. Soon after , Imran became our driver and man Friday while Neeta started taking care of the household chores and kitchen. At 58, it was getting difficult for me to drive down to my institute everyday while the arthritis pain had made your mother immobile. In a couple of months, they had become the inseparable extended part of the family. Sometimes I would wonder about how we survived without them until then.” Rishan felt that reminiscing about his favorite people was Arun’s way of coping up with the situation.
“When Neeta told your mother that she was expecting, Jaya immediately got another help to take care of the household work so that Neeta could take rest. She took care of Neeta like her own kid. When Neeta gave birth to a baby boy one and half months back, both of us felt as if our grandson was born. That was how attached we had grown towards them. Now I can’t even look at this little one without tearing up.” Arun’s eyes had welled up with tears.
Continue reading “Connected by fate but chosen by love”
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