[Part I] - A Fist Full of Memories

"Sorry Chinni Ma" - the card read. Just seeing it and touching the card sent a shiver up my spine.

I found it afterall these years buried in a book that Varun had been reading.

Varun - my son. My step son to be politically correct. My biggest joy from my marriage to Arvind.Varun was Arvind's son from a previous marriage - he was about ten years younger than I was.

Arvind's first wife Charu was diagnosed with Multiple-Sclerosis, and had lost her mind dealing with it. Over time, she drove herself to a point of no return, and enstranged herself from all around her, till she ended her life on a summer morning...the day of her anniversary...it was 25th of May that day.

May 25th - a dark day in Varun's life...

People made their judgements of whether what she did was right or wrong, if she was good or bad, if she cared enough for her family or not. For her, nothing had mattered, she did what her heart had told her was right - she did what she believed was right...

While she was alive, in the process of suffering, Charu had forgotten that she had a baby, and had made Varun crave for maternal love...she did everything she could to drive him away from herself - maybe she thought it was better that way. who knows what she was thinking...

Me, a burden to poor parents, was married off in a rush to Arvind the minute I completed my graduation. Who cared what I had wanted in life? So, before I knew what had hit me, I found myself in a picture frame next to Arvind dressed in fine bridal attire. I looked beautiful, but if someone had paused to see my eyes, they would have seen the pain in my eyes - behind the kohl(kajal) that was used to decorate them.

The first day I landed there, Varun refused to talk to me. He sat next to me at dinner that night, but refused to acknowledge even my presence. As the meal progressed, I noticed that he hated vegetables, and was trying hard to swallow the carrots on his plate and looked like he would throw up - I quietly tugged at his hand under the table, and told him to pass the small pile to me. Quietly the carrots dissappeared into the trash! A secret pact was struck at that instant between me an Varun...

Since then, a million incidents tied us together - I forgot that Varun was not even born to me! We were the best of buddies...we shared little joys, silly secrets, and everything else that could tie two humans in our situation together.

On some nights after our meal, he would say "Chinni Ma, can I put my head on your lap and sleep for a few minutes?" On the terrace, he would bury his head in the pleats of my saree, and lay there looking at the stars - after what would seem like hours, I would feel his tears as they wet my saree. Those would be some days when Varun missed his mother, did not relate to his stranger father, and I really woulnd't know what troubled his little heart. He held on to me like a person drowning in a turbulent river would hold onto a branch of a tree. All I was aware was that this was a person who needed me, was someone who held on to me, and I meant something to him..

I called him my Prince...my baby.


"Chinni Ma, can you make me a cup of coffee please -half a cup only". "Chinni Ma, I want to join the literature club". "Chinni Ma, I've topped in the class again! Are you happy?" "Chinni Ma, I think I like this girl in my music class - what do you think of her?" "Do you think I did a good job Chinni Ma?".....always seeking my approval, my consent, my appreciation...

Right out of college, Varun found his first job in the City and moved out. The phone calls started to pour in - "Chinni Ma, guess what happened today..." I sat there wondering most nights - did my Prince have his dinner, did he like his new office, were people around him being nice to him...I had tranformed into a mom! A mom to my Prince...

[To be Continued....]