After an unusually silent family dinner, everyone went to sleep. Anush also went to his room, and started his daily ritual of meditation and Astral Projection. But after being done with practice, he couldn’t fall asleep like he generally would. Mr. Anurag had not candidly denied his proposal but the faint chance of a ‘No’ kept Anush turning from side to side. Feeling restless, and to clear his head, Anush got up to get some water and breathe in the cold air. When he passed by his parents’ bedroom, he could hear them talking but couldn’t make out the content of conversation. Choosing to ignore it, he proceeded towards the lawn.

The following morning, Anush woke up with sleepy but bright eyes. His father, even after the emotional conduct, had not flatly refused him, a clear sign that he was mulling over it. Only after repeatedly concluding the same could Anush fall asleep last night. “I should give it a day or two, and then talk to him again,” reflected Anush as he left his room. Another important task was up today. He was going to break the news to his mother.

Mrs. Vishakha, mother of Anush, was a lady of the house. With an overweight body, pale skin and a height of few inches more than five feet, she was a splitting image of a typical North Indian housewife. Her small flat nose complimented her round face, and the soft brown eyes always reflected love whenever she looked at Anush, even if in anger.

Like Mr. Anurag, Mrs. Vishakha also grew up in a poor family with little to no resources for the most mundane pleasures of life. She had five siblings, two brothers and three sisters, but none were dedicated toward academics. Only Mr. Vishakha took her schooling seriously and excelled at it, always securing top position in the class.

Being the smartest in her family, just like Mr. Anurag, Mrs. Vishakha had also taken up the role of financier of her house. Her father worked away from home, and she took it upon herself to manage the cash from a very young age.

As she grew older, her father trusted Mrs. Vishakha with more responsibilities and her dominance over the family strengthened. She also developed a very subjugating personality, and would take her parents’ place in admonishing her siblings for their wrongs.

Opposites attract while the likes repel. But in the case of Anush’s parents, two people with equally commanding personalities had been clubbed together. Conflicts were bound to arise, and so they did.

They had similar temperaments, but the exact opposite thoughts. If Mr. Anurag wished for something to done in one way, Mrs. Vishakha always had the contrasting idea, and vice-versa.

“Anush, close the door of the room,” would say Mrs. Vishakha.

“No, let it open for the time being,” would object Mr. Anurag.

“Anush, put that chair in the living room.”

“I will sit there in a while, so let it be in the lawn for now.”

“Anush, don’t flick the wet clothes, they will get creased.”

“Anush, flick more fiercely or they will smell later.”

Anush had to deal with these rock and hard place situations on a daily basis. The similar yet opposing dominance eventually created a rift between the married couple, and it couldn’t be healed unless one of them compromised...which they didn’t.

It happened on many instances that Mrs. Vishakha would end up frustrated with Mr. Anurag, and take it out on her son. Anush would end up being slapped on the back or on the cheek, once or twice or even thrice. But being the loving mother she was, Mrs. Vishakha would always come back with a guilty expression and moist eyes.

“Why would you not listen to me?” she would ask Anush in a gentle tone, caress his back and face where she hit him, and take him to the kitchen. “Come, I will cook your favorite snack.” This simple tactic always worked, for Anush absolutely loved his mother’s cooking. Later when he left for college, what Anush missed the most about home were not his parents, but his mother’s delicious cooking.

The conflicting and overbearing nature of Mrs. Vishakha turned softer with time. She couldn’t bring herself to always hitting her son because of Mr. Anurag, and thus started controlling her anger better. Though Mr. Anurag was still the same old, she had, at times, even started to ignore his meaningless squabbles. She started to openly bolster Anush’s requests whenever he had to ask something of his father. After the death of his grandfather, she became the one to defend him from Mr. Anurag’s tirades. These changes affected Anush’s perspective of his parents, and he became biased towards his mother.

If Anush was asked whom he was most thankful to, it would be his father. Mr. Anurag had provided him with a stable financial support and good academic facilities that Anush could stand where he was. But if asked whom he loved the most, it would undoubtedly be his mother. He couldn’t imagine loving anyone more, and the late grandfather came second on that front.

Anush was not worried his mother would stop him from going to Spain. She might be sad from his departure but would still support him in convincing his father. What tensed him though was how emotional she might get over the whole leaving-far-away prospect. As Anush was walking, he smelled a pungent yet pleasing aroma, and the sight of cooked parathas upon entering the kitchen churned his appetite.

Mrs. Vishakha was busy with breakfast, cooking parathas and baking cumin seeds for curd. She was dressed in a green cotton saree embellished with orange flowery designs, one of the ends of the saree slung over her left shoulder, and was tied down at the right side of her waist.

“Well, I should eat breakfast first. There’s a lot of time to tell her about my decision,” thought Anush and greeted his mother with a smile. “Good morning mummy!”

Mrs. Vishakha turned around and looked at him with gentle eyes, “Good morning Anu,” but didn’t continue to speak any further.  

Anush took out a plate from the neighboring cabinet and put two parathas on it, with pickle and curd in a bowl. “I will go eat breakfast.” He looked at his mother for a response.

But Mrs. Vishakha only nodded, “Okay,” and continued with her cooking.

He felt strange at his mother’s distant and lost conduct, but couldn’t think of a reason, and so decided to focus on food. “I will not get these once I am in Spain,” Anush smiled to himself and left for the dining room.

The dining room, or a hall to be precise, was closed only from three sides. The open side was facing the lawn, and the dried yellow grass with the morning breeze created a soothing ambiance.

The walls of the room were painted in skyblue, and the ceiling in light gray. A rectangular wooden table, covered with a traditionally crafted plastic cloth, was situated in the center and six chairs were spread around it. Anush was sitting on one of the brown chairs, eating his breakfast happily.

Mrs. Vishakha walked in with a small white cup in her right hand, and a newspaper in the left. She came up to the table, placed the cup on it, sat on one of the chairs, and started to sip her tea. Anush looked up to see her face and the tinge of sadness reflecting therein. He hadn’t noticed it earlier in the kitchen as his mother was occupied with cooking, but now that he saw it, Anush felt uneasy.

“Mummy, the parathas are very tasty.” Anush started talking to try and gauge her mother’s situation.

“Good.” Mrs. Vishakha replied gently, but after a brief pause, she placed her cup on the table. She looked straight into her son’s eyes, and spoke spoke in a stern tone, “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

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The moment he heard her speak, Anush understood the reason for his mother’s behavior. “Father must have told her,” thought Anush as he tried speaking, but his mother continued before he could utter anything.

“For you to hide such a vital decision from us? And let alone your father, but to even keep me in the dark? Why Anu?” Mrs. Vishakha sounded disappointed, but the tone also hinted at feelings of betrayal. She was doleful about the fact that her son felt the need to hide his decision from her.

Anush turned anxious from such straight questioning. “Argh! I messed up. I should have first talked to mummy about Spain. Now I don’t know what to say. I can’t possibly say the truth here.” Nervousness creeped into in his mind and started to reflect on his face, “What to do?”

Mr. Vishakha noticed Anush flinching at her words and his eyes had drooped down. Even after a few moments, he kept silent as his lips twitched. Even sweat could been seen on his forehead. Mrs. Vishakha couldn’t bear to continue watching the silent Anush.

“Well, you are an adult now. You don’t have to tell us everything. But at least keep us in the loop of what you are planning with your life.” She picked up her cup to sip the tea again.

Anush looked up at his understanding mother and could only nod his head. “I am sorry mummy,” he spoke very softly.

Mrs. Vishakha placed the cup down. “It’s alright. Since you have decided to go, I won’t stop you. But you must promise me two things.”

“What mummy?” inquired Anush. He adjusted his seat and started to continue eating parathas once more. “Phew! Both of them are so different. Mummy’s reaction is the exactly opposite from father’s.” He was relieved that his mother was not continuing to push the earlier issue.

“You must take care of you health. The food and environment will be different there, so you must be extra cautious, at least in the starting period.” Mrs. Vishakha once more sipped her tea.

“Yeah, I know mummy. Although the food will be a problem, I can cook for myself. And the environment, it’s much better there compared to India.” Anush smiled faintly and put another slice of parathas into his mouth.

“I don’t know how it’s better there, but you must promise what you must promise.”

“Yes mummy!” Anush nodded his head repeatedly. “And the second one?”

With a piercing gaze firm enough to puncture metal, Mrs. Vishakha looked at Anush and spoke in an unyielding tone, “No foreigner daughter-in-law.”

*Cough**Cough**Cough*

Anush coughed at his mother’s words as he choked on parathas. He took up the glass of water from the table and gulped down a few mouthfuls. Placing the glass back, Anush looked at his mother and spoke, “I know mummy. I know. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“It’s good that you know,” Mrs. Vishakha smiled gently.

Anush suddenly thought of something and asked, “Mummy, I don’t see father anywhere. Where did he go? Wasn’t today a holiday?”

Mrs. Vishakha finished the last sip of her tea before replying, “Your father went to talk with Mishra uncle.”

“Hu? Mishra uncle? Why?” Anush spoke in confusion, but realization immediately struck him.

Dinesh Mishra, his father’s old time friend, was a principal in the local government college. Mr. Anurag would often consult him for advice regarding Anush’s studies, and Anush felt grateful towards this kind and intelligent uncle.

“Your father wants to discuss about your proposal with him,” replied Mrs. Vishakha.

Such response immediately delighted Anush, and he thought to himself, “So he indeed is considering it, and Mishra uncle would undoubtedly support my decision.”

Seeing Anush not saying anything but just foolishly smiling, Mrs. Vishakha also couldn’t help but grin, ever so slightly, but sadness on her face deepened.

Anush finished his breakfast, and stood up to take his dishes and her mother’s cup to the sink. Mrs. Vishakha started reading the newspaper but if Anush could see her face now, he would find her eyes red and teary while the earlier smile had vanished without a trace. Only sadness and pain reflected in her visage.

A mother could never bear to part with her children, and send them to far and unknown places. For her, her own cradle was the safest haven. Alas! The world worked differently, and every chick had to leave its nest someday.

Anush was continuously smiling as he went about his day. He was happy that he didn’t have to convince his mother, and even more merry at his father’s actions. He was certain he would be able to convince him when they talked again.

Mr. Anurag returned just before dinner, and Anush could see the look of joy and pride in his father’s eyes. He couldn’t understand the reason for this change from yesterday’s depressed mood. Only later did he come to know that all the people Mr. Anurag had met, Mishra uncle, the Maths professor from the local college and his office colleagues, everyone congratulated him at his son’s success. They informed him of the arduous selection criteria used by foreign universities, and how the acceptance rates for Anush’s university were as low as 13%. Mr. Anurag was beaming with joy after the meetings, and already had half a mind in favor of sending Anush to Spain.

After the dinner and some small talk, none about Spain, Mr. Anurag went to the living room to watch news on TV while Mrs. Vishakha went to her bedroom.

Anush left for the kitchen to put back all the dishes and other utensils in their places. When he was returning for his room, Anush passed by his parents’ bedroom and happened to hear a slight sobbing sound. He furrowed his brows and moved closer to the door.

“Yeah, I know that, but I can’t help it. I am his mother. I was okay with him leaving for college but now he will going so far away, and will come home only after 10 months. There is no one to cook, the place itself is strange to him, how will he manage everything?” She sniveled and turned silent but Anush’s heart became turbulent after hearing this.

“I will. I will miss him a lot. But I can’t let that hamper his dreams.” Mrs. Vishakha’s sobbing became more contained but her silent sniffles were like roaring thunders in Anush’s mind. His eyes turned teary, and unable to continue listening, he leaned forward to look through the door and glanced upon on his mother’s back, She was speaking on the phone and for some reason, her back seemed melancholy to Anush. Tears threatened to roll down his eyes as he too sniffled, and then quietly left for his room; for if he continued to listen more, he would burst out crying.

Anush was lying on his bed, his eyes closed, but his mother’s words and sobbing kept ringing in his ears. He couldn’t help but recall how she had taken care of him since he was a kid. The beatings, her guilty and sad expressions, and the good snacks she would cook for him; it was her who stood up for him after his grandfather died, and it was her who glared at his father like a lioness ready to gnaw when he had taken a slipper to hit Anush with. Anush had never seen his mother flare like that, before or after the incident. These tidbits of memories made Anush smile and yet sniffle at the same time.

But when he thought back to their today’s conversation, and his mother’s sad and disappointed expressions flashed through his mind, Anush curled up tightly to keep himself from crying. “She kept her feelings suppressed for me, but I didn’t even bother to consider the extent of her sadness.” He finally couldn’t control the falling tears, and could only clench his teeth to stop the sobbing sounds.

“I am selfish. I am ignorant...I am an unfilial son.” Anush rebuked himself mentally as more tears trickled down his cheeks.

It was then that he heard heavy and slow footsteps. He was startled from the sudden sounds, but soon realized it was his father walking toward his room. To hide his sorry state, Anush wiped his face, stretched his legs longer and rubbed his eyes to remove any signs of crying. He even put one of his forearms over his forehead to pretend being asleep.

Mr. Anurag didn’t enter the room, simply passing by, but this transient disturbance stopped Anush’s sobbing as well as the trickling tears. He turned to face the ceiling and simply closed his eyes to lay still.

“I have become ungrateful and apathetic toward my own parents,” pondered Anush. “Only thinking about escaping, I am not even considering their feelings. I have never once tried to consider their standpoint, and have only criticized them for their stringent rules.” Anush kept thinking about the detachment inside him that had been fermenting for the past few years.

“I will reflect and improve upon my attitude; but to Spain, I must go.” Even though he felt guilty for overlooking the developments in his parents’ characters and their feelings, Anush reaffirmed himself that he should go to Spain. With a settled mind, Anush started his night meditation and Astral Projection practice, and soon fell asleep.

In the surprisingly stable environment, only the constant humming of the jet engine near his window seat reminded Anush he was traveling in a plane. Outside was covered in pitch black night, and the lights inside had been turned off. Most passengers were sleeping, and so was Anush, or at least he was trying to. A smart looking lady neatly dressed in black and white uniform was walking through the aisle when suddenly the plane shook violently. She lost her balance and fell down, as did some of the sleeping passengers.

Anush felt a jolt. He tried to sit upright but his body wouldn’t move. He tried moving his hands and shaking his legs but nothing happened. He wanted to speak out but even the mouth didn’t move, and his face turned pale from fright. As he heard the shouts of passengers, the plane shook once more, but this time even more violently.

*Boom*

With an explosion sound, the body of plane right next to Anush got ripped apart, and he could clearly see the flaming engine and the broken wing. The resulting flux of the wind threatened to pull Anush along, and as he closed his eyes from the rampaging storm, his seat got lifted off with a sharp snap sound.

Still glued to his seat, Anush was blown out to the distant skies.