Pencil and Eraser (Touching Story).........

…

“We never know the love of our parents for us till we have become parents.”

I read this ever-relevant delineation some days back. But, I had little choice but to take time ( It’s festival time in Bengal ) before answering anything on this heartfelt feelings of a very distinguished personality.

The sketch took me back to the year 2008.

It was the 9^th of March. 11.45 A.M.

A nurse came holding a just-born in her hands. “This is you female baby”, told she and before I could have a proper feeling about The Incident, she left. I had seen my DAUGHTER!!!

That day, I was more concerned about my wife and paced the floor of the hospital with all kinds of weird thoughts coming in and going out of my mind…. “ Would she ever come back to her senses?”…

As time passed by, I watched my wife playing the role of a Mother doing whatever a Mother does to make her child’s life safe, secure and comfortable. I witnessed – I’m still witnessing - how a bud blooms into a flower under the caress of a Mother.

When my little Rishila would come into my lap, she would put her big eyes on me, - only me as if nothing more interesting existed outside. Till now I feel lost for words that can describe that fixed glance of that tiny creature – my daughter. And slowly, I came to realize what actually is meant by blood-relation.

At night when I was alone with myself, a deep sense of guilt started creeping in me. I thought about the time when I came to my mother’s lap. And the thought of those sleepless nights that both she – my mother and my father had owing to my habit of playing at midnight or for having to allay my colic pain. Such thoughts started making my nights somber…

Not that my parents consider me as a bad son, but I think I could have behaved much better with my Mother, in particular, during my teenage years…

I feel myself among the luckiest to still have the shade of the Big Tree – my Father and the flowing river of unconditional love and affection – my Mother.

I thank Sanjay Ji, for presenting me with the inspiration to give vent to my feelings through words and any reader who by sheer virtue of her/his patience has read this confession-of-a-sort.