Return Incomplete (Short story). *#

Continued from part I

made her feel a lightness mentally as one would feel relieved after putting down a weighty load from his
shoulders!


And so one day with moist eyes and longing glances, Bulimaa and her family left her village
home to live in the city. She had some difficulty in adjusting to the city life in the beginning,
especially, the omnipresent noise and the traffic on the roads. And without any work in the house-
whatever work arose was done by her daughter-in-law-she was a little bored and lazy in the
beginning. But when her daughter-in-law got a job as a teacher in a private school nearby, then she
got some work in her hands like, getting up early and preparing the breakfast; cleaning the house,
making lunch and dinner. And then she would walk long distances by way of sightseeing with her son
and daughter-in-law. All these eased her boredom a little… and thus life went on smoothly-although
differently-for Bulimaa after coming from her husband’s ancestral home.


But after some months things changed and one cannot say it changed for the better when
Bulimaa got the greatest surprise of her life. It manifested like this; when her son suggested that she
would be rather happier if she returned to her house in the village where she can lead an
unrestrained life. At the beginning Bulimaa took it lightly, as also returning to her husband’s house
will lead to her uniting with her only living brother-in-law and his wife, his cousins, her nephews etc.
But as days went by and the atmosphere became gloomier each day then Bulimaa realised the
gravity of the situation. Her daughter-in-law would mumble in her mouth when she was at home and it
was in this way that Bulimaa got to know the real cause of the matter-that her son and daughter-in-
law could not ‘enjoy’ life as she was living with them; that their guests could not come to their house
open heartedly and celebrate the ‘moment’ as they have to observe formalities in front of her; that
throwing parties in their house in her presence was out of the question; that her daughter-in-law
couldn’t wear the casual dresses that women wear now-a-days as against the traditional dresses of
yesteryears in front of Bulimaa; and that as they couldn’t be ‘free’ while considering mutual satisfaction
of their physical needs because they share a common bedroom and that was one of the reasons for her
daughter-in-law not conceiving children after one-and-a-half years of marriage. And the final reason
came when her son voiced his intentions in favour of her daughter-in-law that he was also in favour of her living
with his uncles and that, as he respects her wishes, he has also to see to the wishes of his wife. And
so, thought Bulimaa, that she would leave her son and daughter-in-law and return to her husband’s
home! She was pained when her son vexed the same emotions as his wife, but she controlled her
emotions. She recollected her earlier days-from the day of her husband’s death to the day of her son’s
joining his service-with how much mental and physical strain that she put the bits and pieces of her
life together in bringing her son up and helping him in his dream. And only a man with no virility in
him, she thought, would ever send off his parents on the advice of his wife…

And so one morning Bulimaa
came out of the rented house of her son to live again in her husband’s house. Her heart was heavy
as she came out of the main door and she felt like coming out for ever, although for her son and
daughter-in-law, it looked like a routine affair. Her son had offered to see her off to the bus-station,
but she had turned him down intentionally. She would walk all the way to the Bus-station, she
resolved, although it would be a walk of more than a kilometre. She will get time to reflect, she
thought. And so some people that morning, although less when compared to other times of the day, saw her walking
disinterestedly on the left side of the road holding a canvas bag. And it is all the same in every city;
you see a face and approve it or not, you forget it-for there is no time for city commuters to
remember faces and recall them at a next appearance-when a hard screeching of brakes and a loud
moan followed by a dull pop brought people on to the spot. It was Bulimaa, as she was trying to
cross the only intersection that she had to cross before reaching the bus-station when she over
looked the signals and crossed the road to find herself in front of a city bus which had been running
quite speedily because of the scanty traffic and could not stop in time although had applied the
brakes. The result was tragic; the front wheels running over her face and making it
indistinguishable…

But it was only before noon that her son came to know of the incident after he had tried to ring her to know if she had reached her village, when it was responded by a policeman who
informed him of the incident and asked him to identify the dead body and take charge of it after due
formalities …and as her son, after consigning her body to flames, was going over the incidents
reflecting was feeling a bit shameful and guilty as only he and his wife knew why Bulimaa had come
out from his house that day. If only she would have come with him or would have taken a rickshaw
herself! He thought that the accident would not have occurred then…


But from Bulimaa’s side, she had nothing to worry about before her death. In fact, she was
only thinking of her son and his job and also wishing him success, happiness and wellbeing and
imagining him to be a senior executive of the company in which he was working, imaginations which
bring out a smile from one’s lips and a feeling of elatedness, making the person forget for a while his duties
and liabilities…It was at this time that she instinctively crossed the street and could not avoid the
oncoming bus because of her age and delusion arising out of her imaginations. She had no grudges
against her son; she had only blessings for him! And what else could she think about him? For, she
was a mother and cannot think bad of her children?

The end. * fiction # earlier published as a short story in my book, ‘The Grandee of Gorokhiah Gaon’.

Published by indrajyoti dutt

Hi folks, I'm an ordinary guy who sells both life and general insurance to earn a living. I also have interest in writing and reading and so have opened this blog at WordPress. I hope my writings and other posts will be noticed by you and will also be commented upon to make them better and entertaining in the near future. Wishing the best to you all out there. Have a great time.

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Welcome to my net-i-niche at duttz.in

About experiences, happenings, ideas, personal essays, random writings, etc.

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About experiences, happenings, ideas, personal essays, random writings, etc.

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Welcome to my net-i-niche at duttz.in

About experiences, happenings, ideas, personal essays, random writings, etc.

Discover

A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.

The Atavist Magazine

About experiences, happenings, ideas, personal essays, random writings, etc.

Longreads

The best longform stories on the web

The WordPress.com Blog

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

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