I Am Sorry Son...

I am sorry, son….. Smriti and Honey had come to Bhopal. The small footsteps of Honey had ushered in a new life in the house. But I, like always, was immersed in my studies and work. Because I never approached him, it was always he who came to me. Often when I was busy studying he would come to my table and try to stand holding my chair. I would look at him but would not play with him. Often he would look up at me with wishful eyes that could I seat him in my lap; often he would keep playing around my table and try to catch my attention so that I would play with him. But I neither had time to pick him up to my lap nor to play with him. I was helpless. I had to study. So I would turn my attention back to my books. One day he tore off my hand written notes! I lost my cool and even scolded him with stern eyes. I had got so engrossed with becoming a C.A. that I could not see that he was just a child whereas I was expecting him to behave like an adult.

Crying, he crawled (he was too small to walk) to his mother. Smriti came to me asking, ‘What happened? Why is he crying? Did you say something?’ I shouted at her, ‘He tore off the notes that I had prepared with such pains!’ At this my mother came in and scolded me, ‘Have you gone mad with this C.A. preparation? He is such a small child…!’ When I saw mother so angry I kept quiet and went to my office. When I returned home in the evening, I was very sad. I saw him sleeping in my study room. We lived in a small 2 room flat in which 6 people lived. Even in sleep there was a little smile playing on his lips; the fingers of both his palms were folded; tiny hair were flying across his face with the fan breeze; his face shone a bit. I went to him and sat down beside him, ‘Son, I am sorry that I scolded you….I had become very selfish with all this study thing that I even forgot that you are so small now….I failed to understand you and scolded you…please forgive me. I’ll try not to repeat it…’ I ran my palm over his head and he opened his eyes and smiled as if saying, ‘Oh! You are back! Come, take me to the market.’ But in my heart I replied, ‘Not today. My study hour has begun.’ I remember that when I would return home in the night after my office then, hearing the sound on my vehicle, he would crawl to the door and smilingly come to me asking me with some actions of his eyes to take him out or buy something for him.

Because he was small he was not able to form clear words….so he would mumble and make actions to express himself….and I, even though I understood everything, pretended not to understand. For this I was often scolded by my mother who would often ask me to take him out for a stroll but I had just one reply … ‘I have to study. Why don’t you and Papaji take him out?’ In this way I was so busy with my studies that I had no idea how to play with my son..! At home, whenever I would work at my laptop he would quickly hold the arm of my chair and ask me to lift him up to my lap but I would remain so engrossed with my work that I would not even notice him. At times he would cry to remind me that he was standing near me. At times when I did make him sit with me he would be very happy. He would keep looking at my books, keep turning pages.

Once when I was working with him sitting in my lap he broke the ‘Delete’ key of my laptop keyboard. I grew really angry but then a look at his innocent face made me forget it all. It was as if he knew that he had done something wrong. I smiled and said, ‘This was a wrong thing to do.’