Eyes remained fixated on the blurring world outside the window of the running bus. The body felt the brush of cold because of the slight drench of the unexpected rain. Mind heavy from lacking the energy to carry on.
Yajat stood holding on to one of the bus’s grab handles, no longer affected by the crowd pushing through. Life in the big city had not been as exciting as the expression on his mother’s face when she told him about it.
Yajat was from a family of farmers and farming had been their profession for generations. Yajat had always loved the farms. The air around it carried the scent of nature, when he stood in the field he could see clear sky far and wide.
Yajat’s father Mr Gairola in his student years had gone for his university education in the big city and had returned with Yajat’s mother. Everyone was happy with the marriage and everything was fine but somehow Yajat’s mother felt slight discontentment from being away from the city landscape that she had grown up in.
Yajat had decided to pursue his further education in association with agribusiness after school, but his mother didn’t want him to come back to continue on with this farming life and rather have a life in the city. It was only years later when Yajat found a job when he realised that he never found that happiness he thought he might, but his mother did, and maybe it was for her own self, so that she could see and feel more of what she preferred.
Yajat had become a visual merchandising manager for a clothing brand and he was content despite always wanting to be someone else entirely, and it was all because of the happiness that he could see in his mother’s eyes.
Yajat’s father had always been open minded and had always welcomed the idea of Yajat building a profession away from the farms.
But, today was different, it looked different and felt different. The bus stopped, the rain had stopped earlier and Yajat got down making sure he didn’t slip on the wet road.
Many of us believe we can go on forever sacrificing ourselves for the happiness for someone else, but like everything it has a cost too and the cost is emptiness left from everything we let go and with enough time it begins to dig deep into our consciousness creating a void which we no longer know how to fill.
Yajat rang the doorbell and his mother opened the door. She was here for her monthly visit. She could sense something was vividly different today.
“Mom,” Yajat began speaking, “I think we need to talk.”
The light rain once again resumed its downpour as night inched closer.
Written by Anuran Chatterji
Early Morning Memories 
One response to “Unexpected Rains”
Nice post 🌺🌺
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