She was undoubtedly a beautiful and sexy sensuous woman exuding feminine grace, epitome of sensuality, the height of prime sexuality and crescent linger of explicit womanhood.
I recalled her actively encouraging engaging indulgent flirting conversations, her bewitchingly beautiful and inviting smiles, her deep husky sexy voice, her invigorative intoxicating body scent mixed with aroma of jasmine flowers in her braid, the unmistakable infatuation, mutual fatal attraction and love at first sight, and the longing desire to spend time with each other. I felt bit surprised at myself having such thoughts about her at that juncture. She was a grieving mother. I looked into her eyes with admiration, love, lust, compassion, empathy and desire.
She sat on the sofa, adjusting her sari pleats and pallu neatly. She was calm but her large sorrowful expressive eyes revealed showed the agony and grief.
She asked ‘when did it really happen?’
Even before I replied, she started crying, stream of tears rolling down continuously on her cheeks making her sari pallu wet.
I said, ‘Amma, I can understand the pain and agony you must be going through ever since you heard the news. I have so many fond memories of him hanging out and but most of all we remember the beautiful days we spent. I talked about some memories and the good times I shared with Mohan. I said, ‘he became my closest friend in the college and I miss him very much.’
She was crying and said, ‘He is a nice boy. he is very sensitive too. He told me many a time that you are his best friend. Did he not share even with you any of his problems or feelings that led him to take such a drastic decision to end his life?’
I said, ‘No, had I known the reasons or had any slightest inclination, I would have definitely helped him in whatever the way I can. He did not tell me about his problems. It is a mystery to all of us and I cannot see any problems which could not have been solved.’
She was restless and continuously crying. She got up from the sofa walked to the window looking out. I went near her, standing beside her.
She said, ‘I wish he could have told me, shared his thoughts and feelings, his problems, inhibitions and fears to me, confessed to me whatever his problems were. I could have helped him, comforted him, and counseled him to overcome and solve his problems whatever they were. I would have done anything he wants. I brought him up with so much love and care and we provided everything he wanted. He has everything, property, money, social status, good education and so much life ahead to enjoy with his beautiful wife. What more a young man wants from life?
’Shiva, Did he have any issues academically or otherwise,’ she asked.
I said, ‘No, Amma, no issues I am aware of, actually he was good in academics. I agree with you that he should have told you about his problems and come to you for advice. You could have helped him. Who can understand him better than his own loving, caring and giving mother?’
It seems my statement triggered agony and she continued to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks, she said, ‘who else can understand him better than me? I should have helped him, but I wonder how I could have helped him, unless he tells me. Why did he not come to me?’
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