Half Lunch Box

His mother kissed his soft little hands and smiled with tears sparkling in her eyes. “My time has come. Don’t cry, for I’m always with you. Never forget how much you are loved. You’ll always be the brightest star in my sky. Goodbye, my son.” The mother bid his son farewell and faded like the glitters in the wind. He kept screaming, “No! Don’t leave me alone, Mumma! I am scared.”

The school bell rang, and yet once again, he woke up with his eyes drenched with tears. Everyone stood up and picked up their bags, to reach their home where someone was waiting for them. But he kept silent, feeling numb to the happiness that existed in this world. Everyone had one or other reason to smile; his smile was dead like his mother.

“Hey, is everything okay?” It was his classmate. “I know it’s tough for you, but a long life is ahead of you, my friend.” Anger welled up inside of him. ‘It’s too easy to say those words. If you’d been in my shoes, only then you would know how hollow I feel!’ Just when he was about to say those words, all the anger found its way through his eyes. His classmate just wanted to share his pain, but such pains are never shared, you have to bear them all alone.

He walked back home, remembering the days when he had that smile with him, when he had his mother with him. He would enter his home, with one shoe in east, and another in west. Socks? They used to hide by themselves, so that in the morning, his mother would have something to play hide and seek with. The moment he would throw his bag like a rocket that would crash on the sofa, his mother would come and take out the lunch box. “How many times do I have to tell you to always finish your lunch?” and there would begin her long lecture.

For a fleeting moment, he smiled as if those days had come back. His mother would be waiting for him; he would hear her sweet lecture yet another time. But just then, the glass of the happiness shattered. In one moment, you have everything, and in the other, it’s all gone. He twisted the key, and unlocked the door. Neatly arranging the shoes in the rack, he put his bag on the table, and took the lunch out. Now the lunch used to come back all finished; maybe that would be enough to convince his mother to come back.

Everyone wanted to force this lie upon him, “your mother is now gone, accept it.” As if they were saying, ‘kill your hopes before they start hurting you.’ But he would never kill his hope. With every coming day, he kept on getting an inch away from his life. Like his world that once existed, was now no more.

One day, while he was under a tree in the park, a man with his face hid under a black hat came to him. “You love your mother so much that you can’t even feel her presence.” He stood up, and looked in his dark eyes, “What do you mean?”

“Have you never met her in your dreams?” the man looked deeper in his eyes, “She kept telling you she’s always with you. Then where is this place you’re searching for, from where your mother would come back?”

“Then you tell me, where is she?” he asked, as tears brimmed in his eyes, on the verge of falling.

“She’s here.” The man pointed at and touched the boy’s heart. “Let me tell you a secret. Do you know where people go after they die?” The boy was out of words. “They live through the memories inside the hearts of their loved ones. They never go away, neither they go to some place, they stay with you, inside you, always and forever.”

“H… How do you know?” he asked.

“Your mother said she’s happy that you now finish your lunch.” And the next moment, the man faded away like the glitters in the wind. But this time, it wasn’t any dream.


35 thoughts on “Half Lunch Box

  1. Harsh, I feel very happy after reading this story. Your writing is so good. How you convey the things that you want to in a manner that touches everyone’s heart is really commendable. Great going. 👌

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much for reading this, Bhai! And I am sorry for not replying to it earlier, I don’t why your comments on my posts went to the spam folder where I couldn’t get their notification.
      But I am glad to know you took the time to read my stories. Means a lot. Thank you

      Liked by 1 person

    1. This was so sweet of you to read one of my stories, thank you so much for you time. 😊
      I am so glad it could reach you, for that’s what everyone wishes to when writing stories. Thank you very much.
      Best wishes, Harsh. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

    1. What did I suggest you but? lol
      Anyway, I wished to ask you a serious question. The texts that you’ve read (I’m talking about our spiritual texts) did you study them in vedic sanskrit, or translation or a commentary? I am just curious about it.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s