Living room window of my mom’s home was always my and mom’s favorite place. Mom’s day starts with her hindi newspaper’s headlines which she reads sitting on the couch next to it, every morning, and sipping tea in her favorite steel glass. I used to sit on that small couch and read for hours, and sometimes watch the passing trains. Whenever Mom calls me during my reading time, I feel irritated and sometimes tried to avoid her calls. Today, I miss those calls and scoldings.
After finishing my mom’s last rites and rituals, I was sitting alone in the house. I sat on the same couch with another book in my hand with a hint of hope that she will call me for some work but even hours passed but no one called me. But a familiar whistle forced me to look outside the window. Train was passing by.
My bags are packed, I saw that window and that couch one more time. This time train has stopped for a while, but to start again its journey. I turned back and saw my mom smiling at me.
– Nidhi GS (Gratitude)
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