Sitting alone by the gate, a thought from far away land of anxiety wandered into his mind. It was rather a notion of reality which he succumbed to, or an ailment he’ll rather not wish anyone to submerge in. It had been a quiet morning for him as he took a day off from his routine, after a long time.
Sitting alone by the gate, he did not realize that he was about to go through a whim that would result into a being he never knew about. He had been living in that house since a long time, but never did that place seem so uncanny. Was it the essence of a mother that brought the warmth to the place and enlivened it up?
Sitting alone by the gate, he experienced loneliness to the extent that it pulled him inside out. He had never been against the idea that it is the living together of people, which transforms the brick and mortal walls and roof into home. Perhaps because that’s what he grew up hearing.
Sitting alone by the gate, the notion carried him back in time, reminding him of all the good times they had living together. He was especially nostalgic about his mother, who stayed home alone and waited for him to return from school, college and later from work. Did she feel the same amount of remoteness that engulfed him today? Did she felt it each and every day?
Sitting alone by the gate, the presumed answer to this question ran a chill down his spine. He tried to diverge his thinking but he had consolidated from being a hunch to a belief stuck in his brain like a maggot. As the day progressed, the thoughts lingered into his brain, forcing him to envisage the same.
Sitting alone by the gate, he delved into the many days when he found his mother, sitting by the door at the exact same place, waiting for his safe return. He used to feel that this is inappropriate and often asked her to watch television inside instead of waiting outside.
Sitting alone by the gate, perhaps by the exact same place where she used to sit, waiting for someone to come and bring him out of this miserable ideating, he got a reply for all those innumerable evenings. There was an earthquake in him, which brought a tsunami of feelings that cannot be expressed. The cyclone of bloody tears had wiped away all the positivity he had.
Sitting alone by the gate, it was as if the floodgates of emotions had been opened and it was only in that moment that he realized how strong his mother is. While he was unable to sustain himself for a few hours, she had been sustaining herself for so many years.
Sitting alone by the gate, he assimilated all his scattered inklings as he rose from the chair and went inside. He kissed on the forehead of his mother, who had been sleeping since morning due to illness. Today he attained perfect enlightenment. And now, when it finally dawned, it is better known as late realization.
Sitting alone by the gate, he wished to advocate to the world – ‘It is people living together that make a place home.’
Sitting alone by the gate, I discovered home.
Picture Credit: Deepak Kumar