“I need you home,” late night phone call from retired Gen Avinash Singh Rathore made Shweta neveous, “your brother is martyred; take first available flight; I need you to take care of your mother.”
“Major Sanjay Singh Rathore has made supreme sacrifice for the country,” General Rathore, an armed forces veteran, could not believe his ears, when he received the phone, “Sanju, his only son, hardly twenty two years old, is no more!” But General Rathore had no time to grieve. He has to take care of his wife, inform relatives and make arrangements.
“Go talk to your mother,” was the first thing General Rathore said to Shweta upon arrival, “she is in Sanju’s room; make her cry.”
“Shweta beta you have come,” Mrs. Abha Rathore was sitting on Sanjay’s bed, with photographs of Sanjay at different stages of life scattered all around, ”Sanju is also coming home. He promised me, he will be home soon.”
“Look how beautiful he looks as a baby? This is when he went to school for the first time. And, this one is when he graduated from IMA,” Shweta held back her tears and hugged her mother, “mother Sanju is no more.”
“I know dear, that is why I want to spend a little time thinking about my son” said a tearful Mrs. Rathore, “you kids are so cruel, you go your way without thinking that I shall only have these photographs to look at all the remaining life.”
Word count : 246
This is a post written in response to #TellTaleThursday prompt of Anshu and Priya. More posts in response to the prompt may be found here.