The broken window

Chapter 9

Baby, sorry... Please pick up my call - It was a WhatsApp text from Armaan, along with nearly fifty missed calls.

I replied - I was playing with my brother. I didn't check the phone because a blank phone without your text or missed call, provoked my anger for you. Is everything okay?

As soon as my reply got blue ticks, his name flashed as a call. I rejected the call. Somewhere, I was angry with him, so, I tried with an excuse, typing - Dad is sitting beside me. Text me if you want to talk.

I laughed at myself, thinking - My patience level won't allow me to ignore him completely unless and until I'm stuck somewhere or with something. So, let me do some partial ignorance. Moreover, my wrath zips up my speaking ability.

A long text covered my screen -
I know, you are angry with me. But I was not in a condition to check my phone. I won't find an excuse, by saying that I was busy. I was dealing with some hazardous chemicals, using gloves. I skipped my meals, except for breakfast. I was ordered, to complete that part of the experiment within the day. In fact, I didn't get a chance to inform you before. I entered my room during the dawn. After that, I read your text and called you nearly fifty times. Baby, I'm really very sorry. I know you wanted me the most at that time. But............ I'm sorry... I'm really very sorry...

Baby, listen! You stay at your home until I return. You will be safe there. I know, coincidences never repeat but who knows, it might repeat. The word coincidence itself is coincidental about its occurrence. Maybe your shorts were torn, before and you never noticed. Maybe you bit your lips, unconsciously. Maybe you drew the mark while studying and forgot later on. Plus, every individual has their own way to dream that cooks up, unconsciously and uncontrollably. Because we don't have any other possible way to summarise what is happening with you.

His text brought down positivity and strength within me. From the day I met him, he acted as a source of positivity for me. Besides, his sorries digested my anger. Suddenly, my brother's cry distracted me. I rushed near him. Aunt and Arpi di were bathing the little one in a bucket.

I asked aunt, "What's the matter? Why he is crying?"

Aunt said, "Your brother's favourite place is - a bucket full of water. If I take him out, he starts yelling. Wait I'll show you."

As soon as the aunt picked him out of the bucket, he started crying. Everyone burst into a peal of laughter, looking at him.

Hours passed. My weekend with my family was about to come to an end. Mom and dad were leaving as well for Delhi, the next morning. Bundles of questions always linger over my mind, beyond every negativity about my parents - Will they always keep travelling expanding their business. Will they ever live in this home, creating a joint family, staying together? Or will they ever settle, at least somewhere? Yes, we are family members but scattered family members can never form a family. Staying together, compromising for each other, complaining less, and accepting more gives the actual meaning of a 'Joint Family'. Everyone has a house. But rare ones establish this house as a 'home'. Maybe this is the reason, why my friends feel 'homesick' but never heard them saying - I'm feeling 'housesick'.

My thoughts were perturbed by mom's voice, "Jupi...... Come here. Hurry!!"

I ran near her and saw that she had packed some of my favourite homemade snacks for me. Meeting me after years physically, which we did over calls or video calls sometimes; how she kept updates about my choices, left me dumbstruck because I had never expressed them in front of her. I had never spent a single month with them after I grew up and started to have choices. Last time they had come for granny's death ritual, for a single night. The next morning itself, they had to rush for Mumbai due to some piracy issues of their business projects.