2 letters.

Snia walks past the two smirking faces. Their faces lit up by schadenfreude. “Poor woman”, “Her husband eloped with another woman”, “She is a single mother trying hard to stay afloat the ocean of poverty”, “She has proved to an incompetent wife, doubtlessly she is a terrible mother too”. These are the things her ears are sick of hearing. Her life is full of people who try to pry and make her feel worthless.

That night, she examined herself in the mirror. She recalls her old self. She had a pretty face, a charming smile, a perfect figure and eyes that could leave people rapt for the next few days. But now the woman she sees in the mirror has a pale face, a smile lacking vivacity, her body slouched, lacking life and hollow eyes, she has a dead man’s eyes.

Whilst analysing her appearance, she unconsciously started ruminating about her life. Her husband’s elopement left her shattered. He was the love of her life; her love for him knew no bounds.

6th April 1993 was the day. How happy she was. She had just gotten to know that she was going to become a mother. She was hastily searching for her husband, but she found the note. All the words still haunt her:

Dear Snia,

I’m very sorry, but I don’t love you anymore. I recently realized that you deserve someone better and that you aren’t the love of my life. I’ve fallen in love with someone else. Go to my study, there you’ll find the divorce papers, sign them and mail it to me. I’m sorry, hope you find someone who really loves you.

Fred.

“Mom”. Her son’s voice pulls her back to the reality.

“Yes, darling?”.

“Dinner is ready, I’m waiting for you”.

He closed the door behind him and walked away. She stood frozen in front of her mirror for a while, then darted out of the room into the dining room and sat down for dinner. They served themselves and started eating.

“Ron, how was your day?”.

“Pretty tiring mom….”

She sat there looking at her son speak. He was the only reason she hadn’t committed suicide the day she read the note.

“How was your day mum?”.

“I lead a mundane life, honey. All my days are the same - get up, dress up, send you off to work, then listen to people mock me”. She said, suddenly feeling very exhausted. There was a knot in her chest, but she wasn’t tired. Ron loves her a lot, he doesn’t even let her work. He finishes the household chores even before she wakes up. Then it strikes her, she’s not physically tired, she’s mentally tired. She wants to be happy. Though having a son like Ron is a bliss, she still feels incomplete.

“Perk up, mom. I’ll transform your mundane life into a dream life soon”.

Snia flashes a smile at her son. He loves her unconditionally; she knows it. 

He has his father’s dark blue eyes. The eyes she fell for. They reminded her of stormy nights and passion, wild passion, and Ron had inherited her hair, dark brown hair. Again a dark colour. This determined that Ron’s perseverance is indubitable. He is not among those who give up.

When he was inside her, he was the one who encouraged her to live on. He was the one who instilled life and hope into her. And she’s sure that every time she lays her eyes on him, her eyes gleam.

The next few days were monotonous. Often she ruminated about people. She thought people were fickle-minded. Their opinion and interest changes every few days. But people around her seem to contradict her. They never tire of mocking her, ‘maybe because I’m an easy target’, she thought. Suddenly she started coughing blood, after a while it stopped, then her head started throbbing. 

Clutching her forehead, she walked into her room and threw herself on the bed. She tossed and turned, but the gnawing agony didn’t seem to subside. Soon her son came home and rushed her to the nearby hospital.

Later, the doctors informed Ron that his mum had contracted a rare disease. They said they know very little about the disease and that there is no particular cure for it. The disease is Amylethical Pronodunpitiv Syndrome (APS). Ron was devastated. He didn’t have a father, and now he can’t afford to lose his mother. He got up and went back to work. He never visited his mother during the visiting hours, but she didn’t care, because she knew he was working, working to fulfil her dream.

Maybe she could at least spend her last few seconds happily. The doctors kept telling her she was getting better day by day, but she overheard them informing her son that her chances of surviving are grim. 

One fine day, her son came. He looked horrible. His dark blue eyes no longer inspired passion. His eyes were weary, they had become hollow. He looked drained. Snia’s heart ached. She wanted to see her son prosper, but now she couldn’t bear to look at him. He looked at his mother and smiled, “mum, done”.

Snia broke down, her son hadn’t let her down. Now she could die with her head held high.

Next day, doctors informed her that Ron was dead.

Later in the day, Snia was declared healthy and discharged.

She arrived at her new residence, sobbing. Sadness had started ebbing and guilt was taking its place. Ron was just ten when she made him promise that one day he would become an opulent business person and would shut the mouths of people who mocked her. Now along with her ex husband’s note, the note she handed her son the night she was admitted, also haunted her.

Ron,

Don’t worry about me, you continue working hard.

Please achieve our goal before I die. This is my last wish. 

Love,

Mom.

He ignored all his pain and worked to make her dream come true. Doctors said his internal organs were bleeding profusely and by the time he consulted them it was too late. 

Snia had a hell lot of money, but she didn’t want to live. Her dream had come true, but it no longer mattered. Ron kept her alive, now there is no reason for her to live. But she knew if she died, her soul wouldn’t be able to rest peacefully. Ron sacrificed himself for her dream, again he forced her to live. She started weeping. She decided to not die. She’ll live for her son. His efforts won’t go in vain.