Dewdrop

As soon as I read this word 'Dewdrop', it reminded me of my Mom. Actually 'remember' is not the appropriate word to mention her, but sometimes our vocabulary stops giving us any other word. She is in my breath and blood. If I can't forget her, there is no question to 'remember' her.

We had a small terrace garden. She used to water it regularly. One day, I went up in search of her. I saw her bending on one of the plant of rose. She had a beautiful, serene smile on her face.

I asked,"What is it, mummy? What's so funny?"

She replied with a smile,"It's beautiful."

I asked,"What is beautiful?"

She said,"Smile on this rose."

I was shocked as any nine year old could be. My teacher had never taught me that even flowers could smile. My mummy never earned any certificate from any school but she was fond of reading. She read a lot. I just stared at her and questioned her statement.

She petted on my head and replied,"Rupi, anything could smile. It depends on your perspective. Look at this rose. Can't you see this shining dewdrop on it? Feel it. Imagine it. You will surely feel it's broad smile."

Following her perspective, I too tried to change my prospective and observed that rose again. To my surprise, the rose was really smiling with its brightest shining teeth!

She was an angel who changed my perspective merely through the example of a dewdrop. She taught me that nature has the same language of dewdrop. It could smile with a shining dewdrop and even could show it's pain and sorrow with it. Nature could also cry and sob with it. She taught me to imagine. Imagine with my open eyes. I understood the language of nature from her.

Many decades passed. Few years back, doctors found out the reason for her weakness and fatigue. She was constantly losing her weight. She was diagnosed with Multiple myeloma-a type of cancer. It was diagnosed at the stage of No Hope.

After approximately eight months of suffering and frequent visit to hospitals (she used to informed me about her hospitalization with her undying sense of humor as 'I am going on Hill station'), one day a phone came from my elder sister that she fell down in the morning and was admitted in hospital. It was as if mummy's final call for her Hill-station. We rushed from Valsad to Mumbai. She was lying on an ICU bed, unconscious. Her face was unrecognizable as her one eye was opened wide and another was closed. I put my ear on her chest. It was moving and pumping very slowly. I couldn't cry at that very moment. As if everything was on halt. Each member of family knew that now she is leaving. I requested them to let me be with her. Inside ICU no one was allowed. I sat quietly outside and started chanting Maha Mrutyu jay Mantra silently.

Minutes were passing like decades. Suddenly, my eyes stopped on glass window pane. Morning dewdrops were still resting on it and sobbing! It was as if Mummy was sobbing with pain. My prayers diverted. Now I started praying for her pious soul's freedom. My eyes adopted those crying dewdrops. My eyes were shedding Mummy's dewdrops. She was shedding through my eyes. She was going. She was kissing my cheeks through tears.

Dewdrops on that window panes were now evaporating and saying me Good bye.

Doctor called me to inform that "Your Mom is no more."

My Dewdrop evaporated for ever.