Post lunch Mrinalini had cleared and wiped the mahogany wonder that adorned her dining room. Wiping her hands in a hand towel she sluggishly entered her abode- her bedroom, unfolded the inviting blanket on the bed and happily slipped under it. Indeed her favourite time of the day has arrived when she absolutely relaxed and glanced through the newspaper without any disturbance.
That day was no exception. There was no interesting article to be read. The Americans and their whimsical food habits! Latest fad among them is their calorie campaigning!!!
Mrinalini, Minu had almost dozed off. Half asleep, she noticed something. Somewhere between sleep and alertness, she saw the silhouette of a thin frame draped in six yards of linen, white in colour, covered from head to toe. The silhouette slowly came closer. Her dark face was etched in wrinkles. Familiar...An almost imperceptible whisper came floating, “Wake up ma. you have to fetch your son from school.” Tired from all the household chores, nothing registered with Minu, as sleep had already overwhelmed her consciousness.
An hour later she woke up with a start. She was late indeed! Grabbing her purse she dashed out in her faded salwar suit. An hour later a harrowed Minu returned home with her son. She served him lunch, pulled out a chair, watching her son chew the morsels hungrily. Slowly her mind drifted to what had happened earlier .It was then that it hit Minu!
She had come again to her. Many years have passed since they had last met in person. Minu has evolved from a being girl to being a lady and finally into a mature woman; from a student to a wife and mother. Her school days were long gone. Rusted crust had dimmed the memories of years gone by…Yet she still came.
Minu used to go to school daily, holding her Mira mashi’s hand, her ponytail, dangling rhythmically as she walked alongside mashi. Mashi used to comb and tied her thick hair with much care, in a tight pony which made Minu look very cute. Mashi would feed her oats which used to be an almost hour-long torture as Minu had always been a pretty scarce eater. But Mira mashi had infinite patience. She never gave up and smilingly set about the harrowing task of feeding her whining princess. She smilingly narrated tale after tale with untiring gutso till little Minu finished her bowl of cereal. As the school would get over, Mira mashi would, without fail, at the gate to take her back. All through the day, she would take care of Minu’s every need. At bedtime she would sit by Minu and pat her softly till she fell asleep.
One morning as Minu came out of her school, she was surprised to find her father waiting with a grim expression on his face. Gently he broke the news…Minu felt tears roll down her cheeks as she remembered her mashi who had left her that fateful day forever, never to smile at her again. A fatal heart attack had claimed her life that day, while Minu was in school. The following days were obscure as Minu spent most of the time crying bitterly and recollecting her days with Mashi. She missed Mashi’s gentle touch; her perceptible love.
Then one day the tears dried up. Time is indeed the best healer and Minu’s bleeding heart stopped oozing. Gradually Mashi faded into memories. Yet Minu could not stop thinking about the intense pain that Mashi had felt in her last moments. Did she look out for her princess at her last moments? Sometimes Minu wished that she was accomplished enough to take care of Mashi, to embalm her pained heart.
As the departed became a mere memory, Minu always felt her around. When Minu was not at her alert best, she would come to alert her; When sick, Minu imperceptibly felt her healing touch or her silent presence when she was alone or her soothing breath when sleep stood just in the brink.
Heaven sends angels sometimes to the chosen few. Minu felt that she is the lucky one. Dried-up tears came gushing out of her eyes. They rolled down her cheeks as Minu struggled with the futile urge to go back in time when her angel held her hand when she went to school, with her dangling ponytail.
Indeed angels visit their chosen loved souls whenever they are needed.
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