From the bed in our old house, I could see the park and all those playing there. How lucky they were!

Ma had said that one day, rats would come to take my teeth and replace them with stronger, sharper ones. “Ma, when will the rats come? It hurts!” But Ma wasn’t there to hear me. Nobody heard me. Even Majid Bhai wouldn’t listen when I told him I was spitting blood. Anyway, when everyone else would be celebrating, I would have to work.

While I watched them play, a pair of placid eyes observed me, the only ones that showed me affection. It was Grandma Sharma. She came down to our locality every Sunday, bringing chocolates for my friends and me.

She asked tenderly, “Abu, are you not well?” My memories raced back, probing moments when someone had asked about my health with such affection. All I found was my father beating me, my Ma crying, Majid Bhai forcing me to work, and everything else shaded gray. I was about to get lost in the myriad world of my thoughts when Grandma Sharma pulled me back.

“Today is Mother’s Day. Will you celebrate?” she asked. That was an offer I would trade my life for. I agreed, and she led me to the park. She called to all those who were playing. Each approached me with little wings on their backs. I slowly walked up to them. They surrounded me. Little angels. They hummed something to me, but I could only hear one voice, “You are our new friend. Will you play and celebrate with us?” I looked around; Grandma was not there. “Ma, shall I play? Ma! You are back!” Ma was standing just behind me! She looked more beautiful than ever, radiance all around her, smiling.

I grabbed her and sobbed, “Ma, the rats never came to take my painful tooth.” Ma smiled and bent down, gently touching my cheeks with her golden fingers. That was it! All my pains were gone. I had never felt so good before. I cried “Ma” and clung to her tightly. I would not lose her again.

Suddenly, I heard a cry. I turned back and saw Grandma sitting beside my bed, crying. Ma asked, “My dear, would you like to go back?” I looked into her deep eyes, and she understood my answer. She picked me up and walked up the stairs.

Down below, my little body lay still on the bed, and Grandma wept beside it. I finally understood the true meaning of being a child. I was happy — happy to be up here with my Ma.

Originally published on The Statesman on the ocassion of Mother’s day → http://thestatesman.net/page.arcview.php?clid=19&id=36372&usrsess=1