Little Rainy Days

I left the doors slightly open so that a few drops of water could come in. It was raining heavily outside. Instead of raindrops, I heard my mom yelling, telling me not to put my hands or legs outside. "I didn't know where this mom came from. Why couldn't she come and play with me?"

I got a chance and ran to my favorite spot behind my house. I blocked the drainage so the rainwater could accumulate, and the little fish would appear. It was my dream to catch a big fish for my dad one day.

After identifying my target fish, I ran through the clogged water with my broken umbrella in hand and pounced on it, only to be met by Mom's big palms hitting every nook and cranny of my body. She picked me up from my self-created island and threw me into my room. Devastated by the destruction of my dream to catch a fish, I decided not to talk to Mom forever.

Upon awakening, I sensed warmth on my forehead and the scent of oil on my chest and palms. Yet, they failed to alleviate the despondency in my heart or alter my decision until I caught sight of a full egg alongside paratha and milk. I was filled with excitement and joy, overwhelmed with emotion. A smile spread across my face as I immediately realized that my mom was the best.

Years later, while on the Delhi-Gurgaon Expressway, I asked, "Mom, can you hear me?" The rain pours heavily outside. And just as expected, her response echoes in my mind: "Don't put your hands or legs outside."

I realize how much I miss the rain, my dream, and my home, but I truly don't know how much I miss you... Mom.