Awaiting the Return....

As the twilight turns to dusk

As the birds fly back home

I await with bated breath

For your return

A picture speaks a thousand words, they say. They are not wrong, I suppose. This picture is of my mother standing at the main door. This position was her routine every evening since we were in school. She would always be at the door waiting for us to return home. School got over three decades ago, but the routine has remained unchanged all this time. The only thing that has changed probably is after we came back from school, we got a glass of warm milk. Now we get a cup of tea.

      Over the years, though she has become very introvert  she is curious to know our world. She may not have met my colleagues, but she has built an image of each one of them in her mind. How did she do it? Well, she had this habit (whether over a glass of milk or a cup of tea) to take a rundown of events, that happened with us. She had this uncanny ability to coax us out. Within minutes, we would then give her the entire days events. Then would come her views of what we did right and what could have been better. Even today she doesn’t hesitate to admonish us if we go wrong anywhere. Sometimes it gets on your nerves, but at least there is somebody to tell, somebody to care.

                Though the routine is not judiciously maintained these days, she still tries. Multiple issues have taken a heavy toll on her stamina. But she has always made it a point to scan the horizon and spot us coming home. Just like the birds in the skies