" I understand dear, but I am sorry. I can't make it. I tried hard to finish it off and come, but this work seems to extend like it's never going to end. Please, carry on! By the way, convey my regards to Neetu!"
After conveying the greatest news that he cannot join me for my cousin's marriage, which was a few miles away the day after, he proceeded to give me instructions and advices on how to travel safe. But I never did hear a word! A family celebration without him! My head was reeling on the thought of traveling alone without him, but with someone, who can drive me mad and happy at the same time, my 6 month old baby, Ayan.
The birds in the clock cooed 7 times, and I came back to my senses. "Okay, take care, it's time to leave", I slammed the phone down and started to the station through a cab. My baby seemed to like the journey, giggling at the colorful billboards and the pleasant breeze, which gave me some hope. But that didn't last long. The cab came to a halt.
"What happened?", I questioned, praying that he shouldn't say it's a traffic jam.
" Madam, . Can't move forward Madam. Procession, Madam. So, all the vehicles have been stopped for sometime", the cab driver sounded pitiful.
"Well, is there any other way I could reach the station? ", I asked hoping that he would fly me there somehow.
"Walk down two streets and take an auto or cab from there Madam, there's no other way", he announced and helped me pick my suitcase.
I stood there perplexed. Then I gathered myself, grabbed my suitcase and started to walk. By that time, my baby was beginning to look annoyed. " I know, I know, it all starts here", I thought to myself.'
Somehow, I reached the station. How did I board the train, God only knows! I reached my seat, burning, panting and cursing my husband for making me go through this. Ayan was even more exhausted. I feared that this night would never end.
I took a deep breath and examined the inmates of the cabin. A young lady was sitting next to a kid, maybe 5 year old. He looked different and he seemed restless. He jumped, made unusual noises and seemed to be unaware of his surrounding. He spoke in a language which only his mother could understand. A bout of emotions swept through my mind, as I monitored them eventually.
I understood that he was a special kid. The train began to move and I began to start a conversation with the mother slowly. She started to speak to me about the kid, but her words were carefully chosen. She explained to me about how her routine was, how the kid was specially able to do certain things and how she tries hard everyday to make her son live his life to the fullest. One thing that astonished me was the smile that she carried throughout the conversation and the patience with which she answered to the excited questions of her son, in between.
The kid kept on grabbing her hair. He tried to kiss Ayan several times, which her mother diligently avoided. When I tried to hold him and talk to him, he shied away. The mother had to be viligant and patient almost every minute. Though she had very little time for herself, she seemed to be calm and composed, which astounded me. Every time I saw her, the respect I had for her grew.
Ayan ate and he slept, the young lady and the child slept too, but I was wide awake. I wanted to know more about the young lady and the gifted child. I wanted to know where she got her patience from, I wanted to know if there is anything that I could do that would help them, I wanted to know whether she felt like giving up anytime?"
A journey which seemed impossible and overwhelming, seemed to be an enlightenment suddenly. What felt impossible to me, was nothing in comparison to that lady who runs behind her son, being his teacher for a lifetime. Life can bring you impeccable lessons at unexpected places. A train is one such, too! I heaved a sigh and looked at Ayan. In his dreams, he smiled sweetly. I closed my eyes to the lullaby of the train.
P.S: Life isn't a bed of roses, it isn't a bed of thorns either! While we whine about simple things in life, there are some people like this fictitious lady, doing greatest things in an impossible way! Salute to all the super moms!
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian bloggers by Blogadda.
