Pancakes

“I walked down the footpath as the rain fell on my shoulders. The puddles looked bigger than usual, but I did not pay attention. Although the breeze was chilly, it wasn’t doing much harm. I knew it was about time I became cold myself. I looked at my feet, muddy and wet, while I walked towards the parking lot. Time had slowed down. Or maybe I wished it slowed down. But It wouldn’t. Never did for a petty creature like us.

I drove through thundering, dark roads with canopied rustling trees, almost like they were screaming to me, “She’s never coming back.”

Some conversations knit themselves into our memories and you may never want to pull that thread. This phone call was one such. Rain was certainly a beautiful thing but that night, it felt like one mother was crying for another.

“Am I speaking to Mr. Jacob?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Dr. White and I’m very sorry to inform you that despite our diligent efforts, we could not save your mother. I’m extremely sorry.” He kept speaking but silence had trapped me. My head began to spin and I could not think. She had left us. She had left me.

Death is probably the most powerful thing in the universe. It comes to one but kills a little bit inside so many around it. It is an evil we can never learn to defeat. No amount of thought and wisdom can probably prepare you for the day It will confront you. All we can do is distract ourselves with Life hoping we do not cross paths anytime soon.

I was standing by her side as she lay there lifeless. My knees were weak. She was dead.”

“Honey, dinner’s ready.” As a tear rolled off my face to spot the page, I closed the book, put my slippers on and walked out.
My mother makes the best pancakes. I can bet on it.

 

-Gunjan Sethi

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