Make It A Home. Not A House by Ahona Das

I AM WRITING THIS STORY, BECAUSE I PROMISED “HER” THAT SOME DAY I’LL WRITE HER STORY AND SHARE IT WITH THE WORLD. 

THIS IS A STORY I HAVE WITNESSED ALL MY LIFE….. THIS STORY IS ABOUT A MOTHER AND A LONELY DAUGHTER.

~Make It A Home. Not A House 

LET’S TURN THE PAGES OF THE CALENDER 10 YEARS BACK ……

SHE is a lonely daughter, for her mother never had time enough for her. Every evening, SHE stands, leaning against her balcony, eagerly awaiting her mother’s return. She watches the sun creep behind the horizon with lifeless eyes. And finally, when she sees the familiar shadow walking down the streets, her eyes regain their liveliness. She stares at her mother’s seemingly fatigued figure approaching their house, for as long as possible, heaves a sigh of relief, and with slow steps, walks back to her room.

However, the creaking of the gate, makes her tremble. For awhile, she wishes her mother wouldn’t be back so soon. And for the next while, she repents being born to her parents. Their screams and yells reach her ears. Like every day, her parents are howling at each other, uttering curses and abuses. Her dad, who had been jobless since the last 6 years, questioning her mom about her whereabouts, expressing doubts on her loyalty towards him… and her mother infuriated with the greeting, replying in no soft tone.
Startled by the loud bang on the door of her room, She braces herself for another round of quarrel. Her mother walks in with furious eyes, and SHE only wishes it was a glint of love she had seen in her mother’s eyes. Instead. her mom vents out her frustration on HER, beats her up, stings her with poisonous words and storms out of the room.

She doesn’t cry. For, her tears had long dried up. The girl who had cried herself to sleep for years, is an insomniac now. For, even tears refuse to accompany her anymore. Her faith in God, however, remains unshaken. She closes her eyes and mutters a silent prayer… ” Please God! Make our ‘house’ a HOME?!”

CAN YOU BELIEVE, SHE’S ONLY 8 YEARS OLD??

10 YEARS LATER… BACK TO PRESENT…….

Little girl is grown up now. Life has carved her into a strong young lady. The bright smile that adorned her face every morning, has long faded away, in the course of life. Now she doesn’t believe in God. She is scared of dreaming, for she has witnessed all her dreams turn into nightmares. Now, she doesn’t long for her mother’s love. She had always understood her mom’s condition; unlike other children, she never demands for pocket money, or the newest gadget in city. She earns a few hundred bucks by tutoring 2 children, and with the money earned, shares happiness with the ones less fortunate than her.
On one particular day,as she was returning from the doctor’s chamber with her mom, she spotted a purse on a shop’s display. She couldn’t recall herself possessing a purse in her entire life. However, that particular purse in the shop, somehow managed to draw her attention like never before. For once, her girlish instincts seemed awaken. She looked at the price tag. ‘200 bucks’ it read. She quickly ran her fingers through the pockets of her wallet, but hardly a few coins were left. Her lips curved into the form of a frown….
Later that day, in the evening, she broke her life’s vow. For the first ever time she asked for something from her mom. She asked for the purse…. Her mom said she would.
THE NEXT DAY…….
Her mom was back from office. She had been eagerly waiting today, hoping to get the purse. The usual fights seemed even more violent today…. From what she overheard, her mom was infuriated because she had been pick-pocketed. A while later, when the rage seemed to have calmed down, she tiptoed to her mom’s room. Her mom was lying on her bed, with her eyes staring blankly at the wall across. She had never seen her mom look so defeated. She noticed the few strands of white hairs on her mom’s face.She wondered why she hadn’t noticed earlier that her mom was aging!… She sat beside her mom, and ran her fingers through her hairs. Her mom looked at her teary eyed, and they talked. She consoled, and her mother wept, for the money lost. She too wept. For she knew how it feels to lose priced possessions. For, what dreams were to her, money was to her mom. “For the first time,you asked for something… only a purse! And i couldn’t get you even that!”, her mom regretted…
“Mom, It was only a purse… All my life is left to be gifted a purse…!”she attempted to laugh.
Her mom smiled through her tears… She was only surprised she hadn’t realized until now, how understanding and compromising a daughter she was gifted with.

SHE too, smiled. The kind of bright smile that could melt hearts. For the first time in 18 years of her life, the little house she had been living in, was seeming more like a HOME to her. HER home.

~THE END~

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