Cartoon

She was walking slowly, feeling more tired than ever. Her young son kept poking and pestering her to walk faster. She smiled at his youth and his energy. The pavement was crowded. She stopped for a minute to catch her breath. Her son stopped somewhere ahead and turned back to look at his mother, with love yet with a playful expression, as if challenging her to beat him in a race to reach the destination. He was ten years old, a thin lad, slightly angular face, large eyes, a slightly flat nose. An average boy. He was carrying a bag and she could make out his hands strained at carrying the bag.

She beckoned to him to come near her. He came and she took the bag from him. She could feel the spirits of her son lighten as the thin muscles of his arms gave a relieved sigh. She smiled at him. He happily ran ahead, with new found energy. She lifted the bag and started walking again. Something was wrong…she had never been so tired before.

Her son was turning back constantly, beckoning for her to hurry up lest he would miss his favourite cartoon on the television. She was content at seeing his energy. He would grow up to be a fine young man. She was sure he would have good values and would do well in life. Though his teachers spoke of his mischievous behaviour in class, she was confident he would get over it and begin to concentrate on his studies and excel in life ahead. She did not expect him to top in classes but she know him to be intelligent and with a quick learning ability. She had spotted his eyes widen in surprise and wonder when he would watch the cartoons on the television. Perhaps he would get into the creative line, she thought. He would perhaps be the first one in the entire family to break the tradition of being another businessman.

Was it really that he was running fast or was something too wrong with her? True, she had the bag to carry but then she had always been to the market with her son, carrying the shopping bag back always. She felt a pain somewhere inside her. She would have to go see a doctor. Or perhaps she would just lie down on the bed for some time and then have a cup of tea later. That might equally be effective and she would not have to pay the doctor’s exorbitant fees.

They had to cross a road ahead. He stood there impatiently, waiting for her and equally waiting for the lights to change. Home was close and so was the urge to rush to the television. The traffic signal changed. He did not wait for the vehicles to stop completely. In he darted like an expert and within seconds of brilliant manoeuvring through the vehicles, he was on the other side, impatiently waiting for his mother.

She had seen him jump into the traffic and had broken into a trod, trying to catch up. She saw him reach the other side and heaved a satisfied sigh. He had not come to any harm. She increased her pace. The signal would change soon. She started to cross the road and then halfway through, she felt a sharp stabbing pain in her chest. The bag fell on the road, spilling its contents on the road, including the chocolates she had secretly purchased for him to give as a surprise later. She collapsed on the road, withering in pain.

He ran over to her as a crowd gathered nearby. Someone shouted to another to call an ambulance. None would be needed as she looked at her son staring at her with concern and tears in his eyes. She breathed her last. He sat kneeling next to her mother as the crowd thickened. People were shouting and someone started crying. 

The cartoon episode would be missed…but that did not cross through his mind…

- Parekh, Pravesh

October 18, 2013; 12:26 AM