I am looking for myself out there.

For a mother...where ever she is.

Last year roughly some time in November my best friend's mother passed away. I still have the message he sent me. It simply said- "Mom is no more...she has left me...and gone away."
I thought he was joking. I refused to believe the message though when I read it my insides just jumped off a cliff and plummeted below. Another friend who was close to the both of us mustered up the guts to call him up for I could not manage to task myself. She spoke to him for a minute and looked at me. I didn't hear the rest and I couldn't hear the rest.
I just started crying. Shamelessly, sitting right in the middle of at least 30 other people I broke down. It was the most natural thing to happen right then, And some how, sitting here, so far away from my best friend and no obligations to holding him up I cried.
I was never really that close to his mother. I had been to his house so many times but had spoken to her very seldom. The most i spoke to her was possibly when she asked me what colour muffler I wanted, She had made me a baby blue muffler. She cooked for us, stuffed us silly and watched all the soaps on t.v. Even when we went for shows she made us food to take with us. She even made me pickles to take them to Delhi with me. A whole jar of pickles that just sits there on the shelf in front of me even now. I am scared to finish it. It's like the day I do the very last bit of her will vanish from my life.
I think I cried more for myself than my friend that day. I just thought of losing my mother and my heart just broke. I couldn't even start to imagine what my friend was going through. His world was shattering around him and I was miles away, crying.
The other friend who had made the call excused herself and went away. She probably didn't want to cry as shamelessly as I had.
I miss my mother. And I can't imagine life without her. I probably love her more now than I ever could and when I think of my best friend I want to run to my mother and ask her never to go away to a place where i can't call her. I want to keep my mother forever and probably even let my best friend have a bit of her. Just a bit. Just so as he can get the love.
I never spoke to my mother about this. Nor did I talk to my best friend about it. He kept saying that he needed to talk to me. But I didn't want to. What could we talk about?

what could we possibly talk about?

MEMORIES

Is that you? You finally noticed that I was there. It was getting rather lonely here. I am so glad you returned. Please don’t ever leave again.
It is wonderful to see you smile; I almost started believing that those tears were painted on your cheek with permanent tones; I had thought that the nervous chin and the downcast eyes would forever be you. I had thought that I would reflect your deepest pains and lost passions forever.
But now, look at you! The brightness, the colour and the hope! Come closer...you know these old eyes. I don’t see too well these days.
You want to hear stories?
Ah! A treat for my ears. Sit. Let me entertain you.
You remember when you were small? When you were too pleased with the new crayons in school and you did not notice the shriek in the bedroom? It wasn’t the neighbor. It was your father hitting your mother for the hundredth time.
You remember the next day? Your father told you that your mother had gone for a long holiday. He lied. She had killed herself that night.
You remember your sister? She ran away from home because she hated you for being the most loved.
You remember the first boy you fell in love with? Did you know that he cheated on you the very night he promised to marry you?
Your convocation? Ah! The best! Did you know that you didn’t get the best student award because your best friend lied to the faculty?
Did you know that you were adopted and till date your father loves you and yet hates you the most?
And do you know that these stories about you are stuff of fairytales?
Don’t you remember your first boss? He used you unfairly and yet gave the promotion to his prodigal nephew? Do you recall the first pitch you lost? The first insult that was hurled towards you? The first desolate moment of heart ache?
You don’t remember?!?
My beloved, now you do! You must forgive this old mind...there are so many things one tends to forget.
But I am happy for your smile. For the steadily diminishing glint in your eyes and the vanishing colour of your cheeks. You are so beautiful this way.
I am happy for your present and the future but you must remember.
You are going?
No! Wait!!No...
Why must you pick up that paper weight?
Are you going to...NO...STOP...NOT ME...

The coloured paperweight crashed through the silvered glass and the mirror lay broken in a million pieces at my feet.
The memories were dead.
So I turned and walked away.


(This was written for a story writing competition in the annual festival of our school.)