One Indian Love Story ✔

Chapter 7

I wake up with the sunlight slowly seeping through the window sill. The small cactus plants on my desk look dry and worn out. It reminds me of all the incidents that took place last night. Am I ready to face my family? No. So I do the most logical thing I could ever do. I stay inside my room till I hear my dad's car leaving the gates. I slowly open the door and look around the living room, searching for mom. With only the sound of birds chirping outside it is not hard to hear the slow sobs from the kitchen. I follow the direction of the sound to find my mom lying on the dining table face first. I tap her shoulder slowly. She doesn't look up but her sobs intensify. I immediately hug her from behind trying so bad to control my own tears. Honestly, there is nothing as hard as watching your own mom cry because of you. I never once in my life put my mom in a situation like this. I always did well in school and college. Never gave up on work no matter how irritating it was. I worked hard all my life just to not let my family down. But, this, the scene unfolding in front of me is the last thing I wanted. We stay that way till my mom's sweater is wet from my tears. She slowly looks up and takes my hands. I look at her. Even with puffy eyes, flushed face and red cheeks she is still the most beautiful woman to me. Its just that I never intended to make her sad. Not one bit. I now understand what and why Naksh doesn't want to see this in his life.

"You... never finished the mushroom soup. I...I'll heat it up for you", I hear her say. This is exactly why I didn't want to hurt her. She slowly stands up from the chair and ties her loose hair in a messy bun. I look at her taking the soup from the fridge and switching on the stove to prepare breakfast for me.

"Amma, did.. did you eat anything?".

"Do you want the lie or the truth?".

"Well...".

"I guess we were not really hungry".

"Amma! Why? Please do not do this! I... I am sorry!", I feel my cheeks getting wet by the stream of hot tears. I don't want to be weak. I want to be strong. But seeing my family like this, really breaks my heart.

"Eth...".

"Yes Ma...", I see her green eyes that are filled with tears. I am sure she cried all night.

"I... Umm... Can't you marry a girl? Are you sure this is not a phase? ".

"Mom! Are you telling me to spoil a girl's life?".

"No dear... Don't get angry... It's just that I... I mean I'm just so confused. Its hard... I... just want you to be a responsible, good man".

"Amma... this has nothing to do with me being a good man! You know that you raised me with care and affection. I will never let you down mom!".

"I... I am sorry that I don't get it, Eth!", I look at the shaking figure in front of me. I see the trail of tears from her green eyes. I hug her tightly for a few seconds, pick up a pair of gloves from the couch and leave the house in a flash, without turning back. I need air. The environment at home is so suffocating. I look at Ms. Grumpy cuddling with her kittens. Must have been a cold night for her too. I walk up the hill through the lonely road which leads to the isolated forest area. I realize I am the only one walking at this time assuming the crunch of dried leaves beneath my shoes is only from me. I pull up the hoodie and stuff my sweat-shirt pockets with my hands. It is indeed a cold day. The last few days has been a turmoil. I look up at the clear sky and everything comes back in flashes of memories.

The times spent with Naksh, the way he smiles, the way he sits while he is texting, the way his hair moves along with his slow head movements when he is talking, the way his eyes get lit when he tells an interesting story, the way his arms move when he drives, everything about him. I wonder what he is doing right now. The last text I received from him was him asking me to pick up his calls with a angry emoji. That man uses emoji only when he is totally mad. I know its bad to ignore calls but I just want to be alone now. I don't even know where we stand in each others lives now. I don't really want to be only a memory for him. Its the place, the country we belong to. Its the so called society.