A dream or a nightmare?
"Son, are you ok? Why did you scream in the middle of sleep? Did you get any nightmare?"
"No dad. You got me wrong. I didn't yell. I just whooped as I had a lovely dream, a dream wherein I met God, a dream wherein I asked God the same question I was thinking to ask you sooner or later.” And just like that, I replied to my father’s a flurry of questions.
And yet he asked me again (this time, with a more perplexed look), "Which question, son? What’s bothering you that much? Tell me.” Then, he caressed his hand over my face and offered me a glass of water.
I said, "Dad, I am not thirsty anymore. The Almighty has already satiated my thirst. He has answered my question. And now I can have a sound sleep without worrying too much about it."
I put my blanket on before falling asleep. However, my father was still awake. The thought of me having a question now started bothering him, something which was clearly visible on his face.
The next day, when I woke up and opened my eyes, it seemed I got up late. The light coming from outside through an open window looked brighter than what I was accustomed to seeing it at around same time every day. I looked at the watch hanging on the opposite wall. 8:15 am, that’s what it said. I was running nearly 30 minutes late for my school. But still, I didn’t feel an urge to make haste. And why should I have felt it? After all, the night had rendered me what I was looking for, an answer to my long awaited question.
After lying on the bed, unmoved, for nearly five minutes, I stretched my legs beneath the blanket, tangled my wrists in the air, and slowly turned my face towards the other side of the bed where my father was sleeping. But now, I couldn't find him. Maybe, the eye gunk that I had was blocking my sight. So, I thought to get rid of it. But still, after removing it, I couldn’t see him. He wasn't there.
I went to scout around for him, searched almost every corner of the house before finding him in the kitchen. Besides standing alongside mom, he was discussing seemingly a serious topic with her. The question that I asked Almighty the other day was my first guess. But, before I could think of anything else, what snatched my attention was his enervated face and disheveled hair. It seemed me having a question hadn't allowed him to get any sleep at all.
His distorted face and perplexed look, however, held my attention only momentarily. Now it was my mom’s turn to astonish me. Though she was listening to him, she was nothing less than bouncing from one corner to the other, just to have me 'Idli-sambar' for breakfast and my favorite 'Baingan Bharta' for lunch at school. A display of her that deep love completely shook me out of the dizziness. I wondered where she could have garnered that much energy from, just to keep me away from hunger!
The scent of those delectable dishes now started to show its effect. It got my attention away from what was happening around me. I quickly went to the washroom, brushed my teeth in no time, came back to the kitchen, dragged my favourite chair out from beneath the dining table and invaded over the breakfast.
I dipped the 1st Idli into the Sambar and hurriedly took a bite of it. It was hot, yet delicious.
The apprehension over my father’s face, however, never allowed me to go for more than 2 Idlis. Though mom urged me to take more, I didn’t have the courage to ignore the situation my dad was going through and eat flagrantly in front of him. As I said, the condition my dad was in, I had to go against my mom’s request.
By the time I got up from the dining chair, it was already 8:45 am. Now, I had to take a bath and get ready for the school.
But, even the warm drizzling of the shower couldn’t keep me away from reminding myself about my father’s condition. His perplexed face was still playing with my consciousness, as I could see it in the mirror, now and then. It was a moment when I decided to get over with it and tell him everything.
It was 9:10 am, and still 20 minutes were there for my school bus to come and pick me up. 20 minutes was a sufficient time for me to throw my father’s apprehension into the garbage and bring him back, back to the normal life.
While polishing my shoes, I shouted, “Dad, I need pocket-money.” And as a response to which, he hurriedly came to my room. I saw him putting his right hand into his jean’s pocket to take out 100 rupees note. While handing it over to me, I could feel the shiver in his body. The note was trying to slip through his sweaty palms as well.
“Father, I don’t need money,” I said.
He got bemused again. With a quiver in his voice, he said, “Then, why did you say you need pocket-money?”
“Father, I want to tell you the question that I had asked God in my dream as I can’t bear you going through apprehension anymore. Also, I don't want mom to know about it,” I replied.
With a tinge of cry in his eyes, he cuddled me. He got down on his knees and maybe, with a gust of affection, started tying my shoelaces. I was in a quandary whether to cherish the moment, the moment when he hugged me or dissent what he was doing. But, my inherited values and manners compelled me not to allow him to do it. So, I requested him to get up and sit beside me.
The tremble in his legs and the fear that he had was tangible when I was trying to lift him up. He was barely able to hold himself up. However, it seemed as if the conspicuous attempt, full of desperation, helped him to stand up and sit beside me, just because he wanted to know the question.
In a husky voice, I said, “You know father, what question I wanted to ask you but accidentally asked God in my dream. Father, it was about mom,” I continued.
“Mom!” That’s what he replied.
He paused for a moment and suddenly went berserk. He came with all guns blazing. A sea of questions now started flowing at a rate of knots. I had to calm him down before situation tried to slip through my fingers.
I offered him a glass of water, which he took it in no time and started drinking. However, the way he was drinking, it was apparent to me that it wouldn’t be enough to satiate his thirst. The question that I asked God was the only thing that seemed to be bringing his anxiety down.
Finally, I blessed his ears with the question that he wanted to hear the most.
A candid conversation with God
“God, there is something that is troubling me. I kept it with me for ages. But now, it is eating me up inside. And asking either you or dad is the only way I could think of getting rid of it. And I am glad that I have to ask you first, as I don’t want to bother my dad.”
“Tell me, son. I would be happy to answer it,” God replied.
I asked God, ”If you are the one who has created this universe, if you are the one who has given birth to all human beings and if you are the one who has all the power in the world, then why we have a mother for every family on this green earth? What is the necessity of having her? With all the power you possess, you could easily take care of all of us, right? Then why God? Why?”
God smiled and said,“Son, yes, I am the sole creator of this universe, and yes, I have given birth to all human beings. But, to say I am the omnipotent is utterly wrong. When I created this very universe and gave birth to all, the onus to look after each one of you was inexplicably huge. In fact, I was drowning under its unbearable pressure and was barely able to perform my duty. I needed someone who could do it for me, not as a job, but rather out of responsibility. I needed someone who could bear the intolerable pressure, but rather happily. Yes, I wanted someone who is truly an omnipotent and yet doesn’t show a bit of a vanity. And when I went on a search, I couldn’t find anyone but a mother.”
“Son, a mother is someone who clings to her family even when the chips are down. She is someone who keeps hopes of every member of the household alive even when the worst of the worst adversity hits them hard. She is someone who never hesitates to stifle her ambition when it is assumed to be hindering her family’s glory. The mistake that she commits, even it has something to do with family’s greater good. But son, what’s truly praiseworthy is - after doing all of this, she never expects anyone to appreciate her, and yet she goes on and continues to do the needful altruistically.”
“Son, today, when I see the way any mother takes care of her family, I get goosebumps. It makes me spellbound. I wonder what drives her to do that. Is it her passion or love or both! Today, when I see any mother, I feel like I ain’t the true almighty that you all people call me. She is the goddess whom we all need to worship. The uncountable sacrifices and the unconditional love make her worthy of great respect. And doubting her efforts is the greatest sin anyone can commit. So son, don’t lean yourself onto committing such mistake again. Your mother is the priceless treasure that you have. So, admire her, worship her and stay blessed.”
With tears rolling down my face, I smiled back. The very words of God had made me realize how foolish I was in doubting my mother’s efforts. They impelled me to realize what stand my mom holds in my life and what homage she deserves from rest of the family. I thanked God for answering my question. But, before I could say anything, God just disappeared.
The unparalleled fatherly advice
“Father, why are you crying? Had asking God instead of you made you sad?" I asked my father with a slight hesitation.
“No son. I am happy that you have asked God first,” he replied while wiping his tears.
I was disheartened and startled to see him crying, as I hadn’t seen him crying before. I wanted to know the very reason behind it. So, I asked him again, “Then dad, why are you crying?”
He looked at me and said, “No son. It is just a burst of emotions coming out in tears for me.” And then out of nowhere, he cuddled me and kissed my forehead.
A cuddle and a kiss were nothing but the inkling of what he was feeling from inside. I could sense the apprehension that he had earlier getting withered away.
Now, there wasn’t any point in asking the same question to my father. A smile on his face and a few drops of rolling tears had clearly summed up to what extent he consented with God’s answer. And yet, out of curiosity, I asked him, "Dad, if it had been you instead of God first, then what could have been your answer?”
He simpered, and said, “Son, the way God has answered your question, I don’t think I could have answered it in a better way.”
However, it seemed as if he wanted to tell me something. He halted for a second and finally said, “Son, there is something I want from you, not for me but your mother.”
“Son, we all want you to be successful one day, we all want to see you surrounded with all the pleasures that life has to offer you. But son, you know what your mother wants. All she wants you to be happy. She doesn’t even expect you to return her anything in favour. It’s your happiness that is far invaluable to her than anything else.”
“Son, may by God’s grace, tomorrow, you become what you want to be in your life. But, even after being so, if you are not happy, then how could you be able to keep your mother happy? And tell me, if you can’t keep your mom happy, then what is the use of having such enormous wealth? For me, it is as good as nothing. The real luxury you can savor only when you and your mother both are happy.”
Those were the very words of my father. They perplexed me even when I got the intent what he meant to say. Now, for me, everything was clear and yet confusing. The astonished look on my face was an indicator of my bewilderment, something which he noticed quickly, and something which impelled him to expound what he was trying to convey earlier, but this time with an epitome. He said, “Son, there are two types of people who breathe in this world. Ones who are the imposters and others who are truly genuine. Imposters are the masters at pretending. They know how to set a labyrinth and get others entangled in it. For them, with a few frauds here and there, wealth may come early and that too way more than what they could even imagine. However, the genuine people are the ones for whom even a mere pretension, small or big, is as good as committing a crime. For them, even when situation coerced them to commit delinquency, they prefer adhering to their values and ethics over anything else. For them, their self-esteem means everything. And son, that’s what differentiates these two people, where one tries to live in everlasting happiness but only finds an ephemeral joy; however, other, even under the darkest clouds of scarcity and destitution, strives forward in a quest of solace and at last gets succeed."
"Son, if you want to be happy, then it can’t be by being rich or a mere pretender. The real happiness comes only by being a better person, as only a better person can find a path that leads to happiness. And the only possible rationale behind it is - they just don’t have anything to hide. They are like an open book, a book readable to all. Also, the most beautiful thing about them is - via their soft touches, others can derive happiness too.”
Those words of my father left me flabbergasted. They touched me as if he was fondling my heart. I felt the impact. It was huge. The ripple effect started showing its true color as tears began to roll down my cheeks. His very words now started reverberating in my mind and maybe, wanted to dwell there for a minute. They made me feel as if I was living in a surreal world.
However, it took me a while before coming out of the fantasy. And when I did, I knew the first thing that I had to do. Just like the way I did to God, I had to thank my father too, as he made me realize what priceless treasure I possess, and what I have to do to keep it glittering. I had to thank him, as he helped me in seeing a true reflection of God in my mother. And when I actually thanked him, he came with a huge smile and hugged me.
I was on top of the world when I saw him smiling. But, that’s when I heard a horn coming from outside. The sound seemed familiar, and when it blew one more time, I was sure that it was the time for my school bus to come and pick me up.
I ran like hell towards the kitchen, just to pick my tiffin box that had my favourite dish and mom’s love both. Then, I went back to my bedroom to pick the school bag wherein my mom had already put the water bottle. With a tiffin box in one hand and a school bag in the other, I made my move towards the bus. But before getting on it, I made sure that I kept the tiffin box into the bag. I sat in my usual seat and by chance looked outside of the window. But, after that, what I saw had indeed made my day. I saw my mom at the main gate. She looked enervated. But, what surprised me the most was – even after having such an exhausting start of the day, she still had the energy to come all the way to the main gate, just to say me goodbye. And yet, to top that all, I saw my mother, still standing there with a cute smile on her face and waving her hand till my bus got disappeared into the next alley.
-- THE END --
