Better Together | ✓

39 | warmth

Chapter 39 : Warmth

Aadarsh had just been driving aimlessly. No destination in mind. Somehow his car halted in the parking lane alongside the park in their old neighbourhood.

At the far end of the street, a group of kids were playing Holi. There was laughter, there was music. They were all just having a good time. Like he used to when he was young.

He made his way inside the park. The park was relatively quiet. It wasn't a big park, just decent enough. He walked over to the swings. Abhi and him had spent majority of their summer vacations in this park.

He settled on the bench under the shade of a tree, and stared at the empty swings.

"Bhaiya, push me first then you can swing."

"No. Learn it on your own, like I did." An eight year old bossy Aadarsh told his brother, with an air of haughtiness in his manner.

"Aadi, help Abhi. You're his big brother. Come on be my good boy!"

Aadarsh turned his head and looked at the empty place on the other side of the bench. His pregnant mother sat on the bench watching them, while knitting a sweater for the unborn Ashvi.

Little Aadarsh got off the swing begrudgingly and moved to his brother's swing. He pushed the swing for his brother. "Move your legs," he ordered the little boy.

When Abhi didn't do it right he gave up and went back on his own swing. "Maa, he doesn't get it."

"My swing stopped," Abhi complained.

"Aadi, be patient. Teach him like Papa taught you. Papa never gave up naa? So you don't give up. Teach him, he's your little brother." His mother spoke, her hands busily knitting.

Aadarsh wiped the tears rolling off his eyes looking at the empty bench. The memory was so real, like it was playing right before his eyes. Like if he stretched his arm, he would be able to touch her. He shifted a bit and then laid on the bench. He rested his head where his mother's lap would be. More tears rushed down his cheek.

He missed putting his head on his mother's lap. He missed how she used to lovingly stroke his hair and talk him out of his problems. He longed for her touch that made him feel safe. He ached for her embrace that made him feel at peace with the world and himself.

If only she didn't leave them.

Tears stained his cheeks. He missed her voice calling his nickname. There was never anyone who called his name with so much love as she did. Even when she scolded him there would be love hiding behind her words. No one had ever loved him as much as his mother loved him.

His thoughts went back to Abhi. Abhi's words rang in his ears.

You made him bad. You gave up on him. You were not a good son. I guess that's why you try to run around acting like a father. To lie to yourself. To tell yourself you're better. That you can fill his place. You don't.

We look up to you. Apparently, we've been blind to your ways of getting things done.

Abhi had always been volatile with his emotions. It was just a matter of time. He would come around like he always did. Knowing that, he still felt hurt. He knew Abhi didn't really mean all those words. He said it because he was hurting. Abhi had always loved their father the most. He had always been devoted to their father.

He cried silently. He knew he wasn't the best person out there. But he knew he always loved his siblings. He did what was best for them, like his mother would have wanted him to do.