THE DAY THAT NEVER CAME
Ramesh was a hard working, intelligent schoolboy. His one great desire was to stand first in his class.
Every day, on his return from school, he would sit beside his mother who was chronically ill and bedridden. She would stroke his face and put her frail arms around him, as he narrated the events of his day at school. It was the best moment of her long, pain-filled day!
Ramesh’s dream came true – stood first in class, in one of the Unit Tests. He rushed home to share the good news with his mother.
“I’ve got the first rank, mama!” he told her excitedly.
The mother’s heart rose with joy and pride.
“You’re always first with me!” she smiled as she gave her son an extra hug.
Ramesh worked very hard to retain his first rank. But, as luck would have it, he stood fourth in one of the ensuing examinations. To say that he was disappointed would be to understate the case. He was devastated!
He arrived home in a listless mood. More out of habit than volition, he went to his mother’s room and stood by the door, making no effort to greet her or talk to her. His heart was not in it.
“How are you, my son?” the mother asked him, sensing that something was amiss. She received no reply.
“Could you get me a glass of water?” she asked, hoping that this would distract his attention and bring him close to her, so that she could reach out to him, touch him and comfort him.
All the pent-up frustration seemed to well up in his throat.
Ramesh turned up away and saying, “Why don’t you ask the nurse?”
He left the room, his mother making no attempt to stop him.
Ramesh had an early dinner and went to bed. Half way through the night, he awoke and began to repent his rudeness. If he had lost the first rank, he only had himself to blame! How could he have been so boorish and insensitive as to take it out on his mother!
It was well past midnight when he tip-toed into his mother’s room. He wanted to sit next to her and take her hand in his; he wanted to share with her, his bitter disappointment over losing his first rank; he wanted to apologize to her for his rude behaviour. Above all, he wanted his mother to put her loving arms around him and tell him, “You’re always first with me!”
He stood near her bed, wondering whether she was awake.
“Shh!” whispered the night nurse who was on duty. “Don’t disturb her now. She has been given a strong sedative. Come and see her tomorrow.”
That tomorrow never came. Ramesh’s mother passed away in her sleep. Ramesh did not get the chance to make up her for his appalling behaviour. He never had the chance to tell her, “Forgive me mama!”
“To this day, Ramesh has not been able to forgive himself.
.
Ramesh was a hard working, intelligent schoolboy. His one great desire was to stand first in his class.
Every day, on his return from school, he would sit beside his mother who was chronically ill and bedridden. She would stroke his face and put her frail arms around him, as he narrated the events of his day at school. It was the best moment of her long, pain-filled day!
Ramesh’s dream came true – stood first in class, in one of the Unit Tests. He rushed home to share the good news with his mother.
“I’ve got the first rank, mama!” he told her excitedly.
The mother’s heart rose with joy and pride.
“You’re always first with me!” she smiled as she gave her son an extra hug.
Ramesh worked very hard to retain his first rank. But, as luck would have it, he stood fourth in one of the ensuing examinations. To say that he was disappointed would be to understate the case. He was devastated!
He arrived home in a listless mood. More out of habit than volition, he went to his mother’s room and stood by the door, making no effort to greet her or talk to her. His heart was not in it.
“How are you, my son?” the mother asked him, sensing that something was amiss. She received no reply.
“Could you get me a glass of water?” she asked, hoping that this would distract his attention and bring him close to her, so that she could reach out to him, touch him and comfort him.
All the pent-up frustration seemed to well up in his throat.
Ramesh turned up away and saying, “Why don’t you ask the nurse?”
He left the room, his mother making no attempt to stop him.
Ramesh had an early dinner and went to bed. Half way through the night, he awoke and began to repent his rudeness. If he had lost the first rank, he only had himself to blame! How could he have been so boorish and insensitive as to take it out on his mother!
It was well past midnight when he tip-toed into his mother’s room. He wanted to sit next to her and take her hand in his; he wanted to share with her, his bitter disappointment over losing his first rank; he wanted to apologize to her for his rude behaviour. Above all, he wanted his mother to put her loving arms around him and tell him, “You’re always first with me!”
He stood near her bed, wondering whether she was awake.
“Shh!” whispered the night nurse who was on duty. “Don’t disturb her now. She has been given a strong sedative. Come and see her tomorrow.”
That tomorrow never came. Ramesh’s mother passed away in her sleep. Ramesh did not get the chance to make up her for his appalling behaviour. He never had the chance to tell her, “Forgive me mama!”
“To this day, Ramesh has not been able to forgive himself.
.
