I miss my days of walking. Those days were at their peak when I was in high school. Me and those I called friends back then, we spent a lot of time in this neighbourhood walking our way around with conversations which wouldn’t have ended had the time not kept moving.
We all had our bicycles but bicycles made conversations difficult and it would eventually lead to us getting down the bicycle and conversing while dragging it along with us. But we certainly used them to travel what a kid calls a ‘long distance’.
Conversations are not the only thing that I recall when I think about those days. It’s the entirety of it, the interaction with life itself and everything that was occurring. What do a few kids not good at studies and average in sports have to talk about? Apparently, the entire world and about almost everything happening in it.
I remember the roads, the houses, the shops, the less cars and people and definitely more space to breathe in the comparatively cleaner air under the Sun which we associated more with the warmth of comfort. Our pocket money was less but then nothing was quite as expensive as the present. We could afford more than occasional fast food.
In the present, I need a reason to ignore my vehicle and walk, the primary of which being fitness. Many shops have closed down, a cost of advancement. The society has certainly drowned in more complexity; the roads are itself a sign of it; the once completely open roads to all, are guarded by gates and the gates are guarded by guards who are further guarded by the cameras and suspicious eyes of the people living within those gates.
The biggest change I would say is that most from the group of friends have moved on to other places and found a different life to be happy in and I am happy for them, even if years have passed with no exchange of words. I have found another life myself. Now, when I think about the past, none of us ever wanted these days of adulthood, but look at us all busy in our lives. It’s a beautiful thing, all these moments, days and phases connecting to form the life which we have lived and will live.
I will admit though, there are moments when I would give not everything but maybe a lot to feel once more like the days of walking.
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Vasudha stood staring out of the curtain wall glass of the office building. She worked in a bank which had rented the 18th floor of the building for its functioning.
Vasudha often came out here in the lobby during her fifteen minutes tea break to stand in silence with a cup of coffee looking at the world. It was peaceful apart from the occasional person on the phone who had something to say which he/she wouldn’t like others to listen to.
Vasudha’s smartwatch vibrated and displayed a message. Vasudha read the name of the sender and knew what it would be about.
Vasudha had begun her fourth grade in school when her parents separated. Her mother had found a bond with someone else and had decided to end her marriage with Vasudha’s father and she left Vasudha behind. Vasudha’s father Mr Haksar dealt with it very sensibly, as he said later on when Vasudha grew up that there is nothing but only more pain and that of worse nature when you try to force someone to stay in a relationship.
Mr Haksar’s worries remained in the upbringing of Vasudha in the absence of a mother, but his elder sister who was a widow decided to take on the responsibility and she shifted to this life that needed her with her own daughter who was older than Vasudha. Life bloomed beautifully and Vasudha was happy with the love and care she got and also the close bond of a sibling. Although the thought of her mother who left her and never even tried to contact her, never really left her mind, Vasudha learnt to live with it and became adept in ignoring it efficiently.
Vasudha was still living with her father and her aunt and she had been working professionally for the past five years. Her father had asked her if she intended to marry but Vasudha had said that she wasn’t ready for such a commitment which her father understood. While her cousin had married and was living in another state.
So, what was bothering Vasudha? One day Mr Haksar told Vasudha that her mother, now Mrs Chabra, wanted to speak to her. The conversation took place over the phone and Mrs Chabra along with the words of apology requested to meet and Vasudha hesitantly agreed.
Vasudha had gotten over the need of connecting to her biological mother a long time ago, and she thought of this meeting as unnecessary.
They met at a restaurant and Mrs Chabra displayed overwhelming emotions with some occasional tears. Vasudha felt that just maybe her mother had realised all that was gone forever when she left Vasudha behind, or maybe the life she had here. But how the conversation went ahead, led Vasudha to believe otherwise.
Mrs Chabra described how wonderful her husband was and also her son whom she repeatedly referred to as ‘your brother’ as if to instil it in Vasudha’s mind. What Vasudha realised about the conversation later was how cleverly Mrs Chabra had avoided speaking about the kind of life she was living and had rather inclined over how wonderful her current family was.
Mrs Chabra kept in touch with Vasudha through messages asking about Vasudha’s well-being regularly and then one day she called. Vasudha was driving hence she connected the call to the car’s entertainment system. Mrs Chabra was in need of money, her husband had suffered some deep losses in business and they were worried if they would be able to pay for their son’s next semester at college.
Vasudha remained quiet for a long time focussing on the road ahead while Mrs Chabra periodically asked if Vasudha was listening before disconnecting the call and then trying again twice only for the calls to be ignored.
Vasudha just went over the clear thought of understanding in her mind. This person, who was her mother, felt like a stranger who had just come into her life on her own, and was now expecting support from the daughter, the one she had conveniently avoided till a few months ago.
Vasudha accepted the fourth call from Mrs Chabra and said, “I will let you know if something can be done”
These were the last words Vasudha spoke to Mrs Chabra and she made sure it remained that way.
Written by Anuran Chatterji
Forfeited Inheritance
Early Morning Memories 
One response to “Forfeited Inheritance”
Nice post
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