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Calling Home

Would you believe that I still miss my parents like hell? I bet you won’t. But the thing is I do. I still miss them like this is the first time I am away from them. Huh…as big a girl as I am now, I oughta be living, knowing the things exactly the way they should be…but inside, I still feel the kid I was. We all have this kid nature and that gives us the fine nudge to things we do. We can’t always think elderly. We, one time or the other give up and feel the softness of this nature in us. That is when we feel so fragile and delicate, craving for being needed. I called home today and when I heard my mother’s voice, tears streamed down my cheeks. I was alone…that was better. At the other end of the phone, I heard my mother tell other people there that I was crying. But who cared? I called her, Ama…and I felt like the baby I was to her. She still cares me like a baby of course. And, in the blurry of tears, I laughed too with the joy of my mother’s voice sinking inside my heart. If there were two people who had been the greatest joy of my life, they were my parents.

My parents: they are people who have known that a penny earned is worth more than thousand stolen. They are people who have fought to survive in the mankind of evils. They are people who have learnt the hardships of life. They are people who know that you can’t get, if you haven’t given anything.

So, they are the two people who have raised me to grow up into the person I am now. My mother, gentle and loving, she has always been my supporter. She has always made me feel the life in the cushion of softer sides. She has never denied me anything and in her heart, I am still the child she carried and loved.

And my father, a man of principle, he has always been the one to teach me that I should speak when spoken to and I shouldn’t touch what doesn’t belong to me. To me, he was always that person who had perfected in life in some ways. When I was a kid walking beside him, I remember how proud I used to feel. To me, he was a man who knew the meaning of exactly what he was doing. And I would look up to him with awe at how much he knew. I won’t say I’m a person who has mastered in the fields of good principles but without having time to be beside my father during the golden days of my childhood, I would not know the difference between ‘being stolen’ and ‘given’. I really would not have known that, if someone told me to go to hell, he meant to curse me.

Today, when I heard their voice, I just couldn’t help…I just couldn’t tell those forces to stop. How important they are in my life and what a soul of endless virtues they are! I missed them so much and I wish they were with me. Smiling through the tears and biting my lips with determination, I gave my dream a refresh that I really was going to soon build exactly the tower of love and faith. It seemed like it was really very near, so beautiful and so fulfilling. I just needed a few elements…swish and everything would shine. It looked like a star twinkling in the sky. It looked like a stair to heaven. We would all take a stride together….

[This was written more than a year back when I had both my parents with me and I took it for granted that life would always be life and death wouldn’t become a part of our life so soon]


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