“For some of us, happiness is just a memory, frozen in time. And no matter how fast life moves, our stubborn hearts choose to stay stagnant.
I was an orphan, raised by my grandmother in a remote village in Pondicherry. Growing up, I had no means of a living and started taking up odd jobs. Soon after, life hit me with its first arrow, when my grandmother suddenly passed away. I was too young to realize the pain but was lucky enough to be identified by a kind-hearted man. He took me away from all that and gave me an opportunity to earn. I worked in his mills, carrying rice bags for many years until he decided it was time for me to settle down. He found a suitable girl, got me married and we moved to Chennai, two years later, with our kids- a boy and a girl. For a brief phase, life felt joyous, until it all ceased one day!
We suddenly received the news that our son was run over by a lorry and found dead on the spot. Within seconds, our world collapsed! The suffering that followed was so unimaginable, that my wife decided we should shift areas and work elsewhere to ease out the ache. But no matter the change, his thoughts are all that remain etched in my head, even after 18 long years. I’m 62 now, but still, have to hustle every day to provide a single meal. Had my son been alive, he would have definitely taken care of his ageing parents and given us a comfortable life.
Yes, we do have our daughter, but she’s settled far away into a beautiful family, with two kids to take care of. And today, I feel that their smile is the only thing that gets us through this slow, dull life. My wife, in fact, sees an uncanny resemblance between our eldest grandson and our late son and believes strongly that he’s a reincarnation.
But besides that, there’s no purpose to our existence. As parents, our lives revolved around our children and witnessing one of their demise is something I hope no one ever has to go through!”
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