"When you have to go through EVERYTHING, to get that EVERYTHING."
It's so hard to be someone when you're confused about who or what you're. Tarun is never 'Who' he thought he would be. He has a secret which he is claimed of hiding from everyone. Nei...
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Five days later.
Wash. Wash. Wash.
Peel. Peel. Peel.
Cut. Cut. Cut.
Fry. Fry. Fry.
Stir. Stir. Stir.
Cook. Cook. Cook.
The alarm clock shows it's 11 a.m. Time to make lunch. Fixed time to do everything. To wakeup. To bath. To make breakfast. Lunch. And whatnot. It's that summer has started, and I'm having less things to do—for starters, sending Paras and Tarun to school in the morning. It was a load. I'm doing this out of duty. I've to take care of this house. Two human beings to raise. And who knew it would be so hard. Doing it all alone.
I walk to the kitchen. There's a bowl of eaten ice cream and an empty packet of ice cream on the dining table. And the table mat is all sticky now. Paras. Last night he went to his friend for a sleepover. And I told Tarun to bring him up. Tarun and I aren't so much talking. He might think I'm mad at him that I saw and heard everything happened outside.
I don't even know, what is happening in my kid's life. I'm glad Abhimanyu is with him. That boy isn't like his father. The other day when he came to my room when I was cleaning up Rakesh's closet. It was vulnerable. And it felt good. I've to talk to Tarun as soon as he returns home. I mean, I'm the only one who talks. I'm trying to be a mother who shows efforts. But sometimes kids can get annoyed with all the barging.
I clean up the table and the mess Paras created last night. I hadn't entered the kitchen after making dinner. I'm allowing Paras to do whatever he wants. After all, it is the start of summer. He went to Summer camp from school and came a few days back. Tarun must be bringing him soon from his friend's house.
I take out the chopping board. Then open the refrigerator and stood there, it's actually a difficult task to decide what to prepare for any meal. Sometimes it's handy.
Hmm. Potato curry will be fine.
I carry the potato to wash. wash. wash. Almost 3 months. I still can't believe it. Rakesh is no more and it's been three months. And I'm living. I never thought about how it would be like to be a widow. I mean, does someone actually think about it when their husband is alive? I don't think so.
Okay. Fine. I'm lying to myself. I've thought about being a widow. That doesn't mean I wanted Rakesh to be dead. I didn't want to be a wife without her husband. I didn't want my kids to be fatherless. Now I'm. Now they are. Now, we're.
I start the next step. Peeling potatoes.
I loved him. I loved Rakesh. And I think I'll never feel about anyone the way I did for him. He was everything a good boyfriend. A good husband. A good father should be.
