Embers in the Snow — Part 5

Refresh the last chapter: Embers in the Snow — Part 4

“It was one of those nights in May 1987 when Meerut was toiling through a hot spell, owing not just to the fervent weather but the ongoing communal skirmish in the town. A small group of hideous-looking men, shoulders draped under long sheets with faces covered in gamuchas, appeared out of nowhere. They tiptoed through the lanes, masking their voices underneath the ambient noise of chirping crickets. Halting outside a duplex house, one of them stepped ahead and flashed a torchlight at the nameplate, which read: Dr. Ashok Tripathy. The men exchanged brief glances, establishing a silent consonance among them. As the man with the torchlight moved towards the main door, the others began igniting the molotov cocktails they had been hiding under their sheets.”

(Shazia takes a brief pause)

“The man began pounding on the door continuously. One could notice the lights getting switched on inside the house through the windows. The man with the torchlight stepped aside, allowing another one with a flaring bottle to take his place. As the door opened, the man with the bottle yelled at the top of his lungs: This is what you get for betraying your own community!”

Shazia struggled to continue with a breaking voice, “He tossed the bottle inside the house. The others followed him by throwing the burning molotov cocktails at the windows. Within seconds, the house turned into a blazing inferno. As they saw another man clamoring and running towards them, the gamucha-clad men fled from the scene. The full-bearded man struggled inside the house amidst the flames as he heard commotion noises coming from within. He saw a woman kneeling on her knees, hyperventilating amid the suffocating smoke. Recognizing the man, she bellowed: Mustafa Bhai, please save my child!”

“Seeing those dreadful tears in her eyes, Mustafa, without a second thought, picked up the child’s body wrapped in a blanket and somehow managed to escape from the house unharmed. The child was rescued safely, but the arsonists had claimed the lives of everyone else in the house. Mustafa and his wife kept the child safe with themselves till the riots ended and subsequently adopted her as their own. The little girl was, after all, the daughter of a very noble doctor who was impartial towards caste or religion and for which he paid a horrific price. That little girl was given a new name: Shazia.”

The hijab unfurled as Shazia plucked the pin tucked inside it. Dark brown hair unwound from her head, spreading out to her lower back as she removed the hijab completely.

Ranbir stood in silence, perplexed by Shazia’s story. She turned towards him. Ranbir’s eyes widened as he witnessed her bereaved of her hijab for the very first time. The nigh side of her face, including a major portion of the cheek and the whole ear, was deeply seared. The burn marks extended downwards over the neck and the left shoulder, eventually getting concealed under her nightgown. The scalded area of the skin surrounding her left ear was substantially devoid of any hair growth. Her eyes were swollen with tears, yet they were boldly fixated at Ranbir’s.

Tears began rolling down Ranbir’s face, and the bouquet dropped from his hand. The agonizing sight was receding him into a fathomless trauma, and his mind refused to comprehend the harsh reality that beheld him.

“Tell me Ranbir, would you want to be with me now?” asked Shazia in a breaking, sobbed tone.

Those words coming from Shazia were too much for Ranbir to handle. He felt his senses tailspinning into chaos. Unable to withstand the emotional torment, he stuttered, “I’m…I’m sorry,” and absconded from Shazia’s place.

Completely disregarding the downpour drenching his body, Ranbir was running. Deprived of hope, purpose, thoughts, or feelings, he kept running.

“It has been five days, Ranbir. How long are you gonna keep yourself locked inside your room?”

Ranbir gave no response and turned towards the other side of the bed.

“You haven’t been to work this whole week, neither are you taking Auntie’s calls. She’s worried about you, man, at least talk to her.”

“And what do you suppose I tell her, Sandeep? I do not possess the courage to face her questions. I am ashamed of myself,” replied Ranbir in a sullen tone.

“Tell her the truth, Ranbir. Stop blaming yourself, it wasn’t your fault. You just weren’t ready for Shazia’s truth. It was natural for anyone to react the way you did,” consoled Sandeep.

“Why’d it have to be that way, Sandeep? Why was fate so cruel to her? Shazia is such a kindred soul, man. It is so unfair and unacceptable!” babbled a frustrated Ranbir.

“I understand what you’re going through, Ranbir. I wish I had the answers to your questions. But right now, I do know this.”

Sandeep picked up the cell phone lying on the side table and extended it towards Ranbir.

“You need to talk to your mom. Trust me, she will guide you through this. At this point, only she can help you out, my friend. Call her!”

Sandeep stood up and proceeded towards the door. He looked back at Ranbir, reassured him with eye contact, and went outside, shutting the door softly.

Ranbir was staring at the cell phone, struggling to make a decision. But thankfully, he was pulled out of his dilemma when he saw the phone ring.

*Mom Calling*

Irresolutely, he picked up.

“Hello, son, where are you? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, mom. I’m alright. I’m at home,” replied Ranbir in a dull tone.

“You haven’t talked to me for the last five days. What is the matter, son? Is something troubling you?” asked Ranbir’s mom with utter concern.

Ranbir had never shared anything so deeply intimate with his mother, and hence, he feared the conversation might become very awkward.

“No, it’s nothing mom. Everything’s fine,” Ranbir’s sniveling tone didn’t seem to resonate with his words.

“You sure don’t sound like you’re fine. Please tell me, son. You know you can share anything with me, right?”

Those last words were enough to crack Ranbir up. He couldn’t contain his feelings any longer. He took the first step in the right direction.

“Mom, tell me this. Suppose that I had met with a mishap during my childhood years that permanently deformed me physically or mentally. Would you still have loved and nurtured me the same?”

Ranbir’s mom took a momentary pause and asked, “Son, do you remember Rambo?”

“Yes, of course, mom, how can I forget him?”

“When you were a little boy Ranbir, the Brigadier uncle in our neighborhood, used to bring Rambo home every weekend. Little children would gather in uncle’s backyard to play with him and listen to the legendary war dog’s heroic tales. But you were Rambo’s best mate, son. He would run towards you whenever you showed up and curl up his massive body into your lap, expecting a belly rub from you. He would bark with joy, wagging his tail energetically, and lick your fingers. Then he would fetch all his toys to play, exclusively with you.”

“Yes mom, I remember him doing that!” recollected Ranbir, and his voice lightened up.

“A few months later, the Brigadier uncle went off to the battlefront. He came back in a few days but stopped bringing Rambo along anymore. When you insisted on seeing him, he took us to the military base on a Sunday. Rambo was lying still on the floor, as opposed to his peppy nature. As soon as you called out his name, he lifted his head, sniffed the air, and hustled to stand on his prosthetic hind limb. He began limping towards you, carving the path through his snout. He recognized your touch as you placed your palm on his head. He was pumped with energy, which was evident from his wagging tail and his jubilant barks. He began licking you and dropped himself on your lap, just the way he always did.”

Ranbir was smiling, but his eyes were brimming with tears upon recalling the memories of his old friend.

“Uncle told us that Rambo had been on a mission, where he accidentally stepped on a land mine. His hind limb had to be amputated, and he lost his eyesight in the explosion. Rambo’s feats had saved hundreds of lives, and hence, he was honored with a badge of bravery that could be seen hanging from his neck. Rambo had been suffering from post-traumatic stress since the incident happened. It was only when he saw you that cheered him up. He needed you son. He was waiting for a reunion with his best bud!”

Ranbir was desperately trying not to cry while being on the call with his mother, but his tears won’t stop.

“Rambo suffered a major injury that deformed him for life. But did that aggravate your feelings towards him? It didn’t. It was because he was that very same Rambo you used to play with at Brigadier uncle’s house. You experienced the same feeling when he slid into your lap, and so did he. There was no reason his injury could have affected your friendship with him, isn’t that right, son?”

“Yes, mom. That is absolutely right,” replied Ranbir in a breaking voice.

“Always remember this, son. Nobody can truly achieve greatness without suffering some amount of physical or emotional setbacks and making worthy sacrifices in life. That is the law of nature. That is God testing the individuals’ mettle before bestowing their share of greatness upon them. Go through the history of any eminent personality you can think of, and you will inevitably come across the grievous struggles that each one of them would have endured and conquered during their lifetimes. That is precisely the reason why their stories are so inspiring. The road to greatness is never a bed of roses. It is excruciatingly challenging to keep moving forward with all the battle scars, and therefore, it is all the more important to honor, support, and love people through their tough times. The power of your love and friendship helped Rambo recuperate from his trauma and find his cheerful self again. You don’t unlove broken souls, son. Rather, you love them even harder!”

Ranbir was enlightened by the influx of his mother’s wisdom. He felt his senses rejuvenate, and his mind steered clear of the negative thoughts that were haunting him for days.

“So, do you have your answer now, son?”

“Yes, mom. Thank you so much! Mom, I have to get going now. I will call you back. Okay?”

“Okay, son. Take Care!”

“Thanks again, Mom!”

(Ranbir hangs up)

Ranbir loved and respected his mother dearly. But today, he bonded with her on a whole new level. Today, he discovered a best friend in his mother!

Ranbir got up immediately, changed into his outdoor attire, picked up his helmet, and stormed out of his room.

“A major social issue with the generation today is that the children are constantly drifting emotionally apart from their parents as they hit puberty. Youngsters refrain from sharing and discussing their intimate thoughts, emotions, and issues about significant topics, such as relationships and inner aspirations with their parents. A lack of discernible attitude from the parent or the risk of the conversation going awkward are some of the primary reasons that are cited behind this mentality. What they fail to realize is that their parents, at some point of time in their life, have gone through similar situations and hence, could provide them with much better counsel as compared to a friend who is still struggling through the same sail. In a majority of cases, the parents have little knowledge about what’s really going on in their children’s lives.

But I do not blame the youngsters entirely. The onus to build such a trustworthy environment at home, where the children perceive their parents as not just guardians but also as friends, ultimately lies with good parenting. Hence, through this post, I urge the parents to incubate an amiable and welcoming environment right from the beginning and really try to listen to and understand their children like a friend. As for the children, they must trust their parents a little more and open up!”

March ahead to the Final Chapter: Embers in the Snow — Finale.

Let me know your thoughts about this chapter and my ideologies in the comments section. Keep clapping and Keep following :-)