Memory

'Mom! Look at this. My brother did not let me use this tiffin (breakfast) box,' Shashi complained to her mother.

'Satish! Give it to your sister. If she uses that box, what's the problem?' questioned the mother.

'Mom! I told you once. That box stays with me. None can use it.'

'Why so?' Shashi got up with a sigh.

'That's it. Such are the memories I have with that box.'

'What? Am I not have those memories?'

'I don't know about you. I won't give that box to you.'

'Satish! This is not acceptable. You should not be stubborn. That box is memorable to us as it is to you.'

'Mom! That's not the case. She leaves things everywhere. Sometimes she forgets. I can't leave this box like that. That's why I didn't let her use it.'

'Satish! Why are you so fond of that box?'

'Mom, don't you know why I'm so possessive with that tiffin box? Don't you know how many memories I have with it?'

'Satish! If you have all the memories, don't I have? Your sister will also have one. But, we are leaving them all.'

'Mom! You may leave it, but I will not. I used to carry breakfast for my father in this box while going to school in the morning. Even after I came to college, I carried my father's tiffin box to his office. If my father left for duty at 6 a.m., I would eat the breakfast that you give at 8 o'clock. Then, I would carry this tiffin box for my father. Mom, don't you remember those days?'

'Why don't I remember Satish! I was the one who packed tiffin in that box for him every day for all those years.'

'Does it mean I have nothing to do with that box? When my brother missed school, or whenever he had exams, I used to take it and give it to my father.' Shashi came in the middle.

'That's why I kept this box as a memory of our father.' 

'Satish, Shashi! It's been more than a year since your father died. The covid pandemic has changed our lives. Your father, whom we lov

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e so much, has been taken away by God. What is the use of keeping this lifeless tiffin box when he is no more? Let us forget those old things and start life from a different perspective. Your father used to have a lot of fun every day when you fought over petty things like this. But, after he left, I was so depressed. So, both should stop fighting over such things and be nice to each other. If such a pandemic strikes again, I will also go to your father,' Mother said, wiping her eyes with pain.

'Mom! Don't say like that,' both the children started crying after holding their mother. 

Often, such scenes happen in that house after the passing away of their father. The house, which was always happy, was filled with painful scenes due to the impact of Covid.

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With the help of her friends, Satish's mother joined her husband's company with the offer given to them by the company to support the family. Now she is carrying her breakfast in the same box. But, how long should they keep the old memories and suffer the pain? So, she started taking steps forward by giving strength to the children and gaining courage herself.

Slowly, Children realized, over the next year, that memory should be in mind, but not in physical form. Clothes and other items of their father, left as memories at home, were gradually given to ashrams and acquaintances. That way, those items started helping tens of people instead of lying waste in the house.

Last Diwali, when Satish was going out, the apartment's watchman met him and was joyful by showing him his new shirt. Seeing that, Satish remembered they had gone shopping for his father's last birthday and bought that shirt. His father could not wear that shirt. 'Oh. The watchman doesn't know the story behind this shirt. It is good that instead of gathering dust in a corner as a memory, that shirt is useful to another person,' Satish was happy in his heart.