While Raj had hugged his mother on the spur of the moment it was Kala’s body which had responded to his embrace and hugged him strongly and did not let go until Raj moved out of her arms.
Coming out of the embrace while Raj was excited to see her blushing face it was Kala who felt bad. She could understand what had taken over her and why she had reacted like that. Shaking the image out of her mind and slipping her arm on his waist she flashed a smile at him.
That smile conveyed thousand meanings and Raj could not have asked for more.
The next week saw Raj shuttling from one office to another getting all the paper work done. He used to come home late in the night and run away the next morning after collecting a few bronze pieces. Kala was a mute spectator to all this.
One evening Raj came home carrying a few parcels and keeping them aside he said. ‘Mom tomorrow we may have to go to town again.’
‘Is it necessary that I should come along,’ asked Kala raising her eyebrows.
‘Yes Mom you have to sign a few documents,’ replied her son enthusiastically and handing over the parcels he went out again.
Kala was troubled to see him leave and on opening the parcels she was surprised to see a few undergarments along with a saree. Hugging the garments, ‘so this is the reason for him to runaway she thought.’ Then trying them on and finding them fit her body wondered how he was able to pick them up.
Next morning she spent a lot of time dressing up. After draping the saree she had to struggle to see how it looked on her as the small mirror she held was so little help. It was here she regretted on not having a full length mirror.
Stepping out and facing her son she felt bad on not finding the desired effect on him and when she said tried to step out she stood her ground when she heard ‘Mom why don’t you comb your hair.’ Those words made her stand rooted at the door as she had totally forgotten about it. Taking a deep breath and finding enough courage she turned and facing him ‘why don’t you do it for me,’ she said boldly.
Those words were music for his ears and by the time he could return fetching a comb he saw his Mom sitting on a stool. Coming to kneel behind her he held her lush silky hair and toying her hair to his heart’s content ran the comb through them, all the time feeling its silkiness. Kala let him have his way as this brought much relief to her troubled mind.
Running the comb through her hair his hands had a field day caressing her forehead and her earlobes and on one such occasion seeing a few strands of grey hair ‘Mom you need to dye your hair,’ he said.
‘Why should I at this age,’ she replied.
‘Mom, how old are you?’ he asked.
‘May be 38 but why do you ask?’
‘At 38 nobody starts getting grey hair Mom,’ he replied.
‘If someone else was in my position then you ought to have searched for black hair,’ she replied.
‘I can understand what hardship you have faced Mom,’ he said bending down and planting a kiss on her forehead.
‘No you can never understand,’ she replied shaking her head.