The Tighter You Grip, More You Lose

 

On the dirty bench in a deserted public place, sat the 14-year old. Aarav wasn’t even aware how much tears his eyes have lost. He constantly looked at his feet, and kept thinking about the rows he had with his mother. He didn’t have any clue about what to do. He knew he couldn’t go home.

He knew he couldn’t talk to her. And how could he, it was completely his fault in the last row. He argued with his mother in the morning, said unmentionable things which his mother couldn't digest. The result was the 14-year old sitting on the bench. He could simply have apologized for what he said. But he couldn’t muster the courage.

He started thinking about the times he went to school, when his mother would wake up earlier than him, prepare him food, wake him up, feed him and then would drop him to the school, bid him good bye and then go to her fields. He started thinking about the times his mother offered him food of her share saying that she was full. He felt a guilt when he remembered about the time his mother kept awake for he was sick, and also that there was no single moment he woke up in nights. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his mother, but he was irresponsible too. It never struck his mind that her condition could be serious at night too, or how would she manage.

He then started thinking about the times his thoughts didn’t match his mother’s, and he would start heated discussion which would soon turn into an argument, the times he disrespected his mother. He then thought about his last argument, and also that when he went back home, he discovered that he lost her forever. After his father’s death, his mother was his only treasure, which he didn’t give any value. But nothing mattered now. God stole all his wealth. He did apologize, but in front of the pile of woods, his lifeless mother was being burnt upon, which wouldn’t change anything a bit.

The boy for the first time thought only and only about his mother. He kept sitting on the bench watching that pyre burn down to ashes. He could feel his mother going away from him every second. He wanted stop her, get her back. But it was like sand in hand, the tighter you grip, more you lose!!!....