Story of a Successful Mother

Katyayani was happy – her only son set out for America. Twenty eight years ago, she was married to a university clerk, who turned out to be most unsuccessful of six siblings in the family. Even none of the Katyayani’s  eight siblings needed to spend their entire life in an one-bedroom rental apartment in the dingy lane of the city, only to settle in another one-bedroom apartment in the outskirts, purchased after retirement – always keeping a record of every single paisa spent in a day for grocery and vegetables. Yes, she had to undergo what people call poverty.

Sumit was born three years after her marriage and after another three years she started commuting to the city by the miserable public transport with her son – taking him to school. Since then, she commuted the same way for the entire 22 years – accompanying her son to schools and college everyday without fail. She is a proud mother now, who had to bear all family-members and neighbours mocking her for being over-protective since 22 years. For entire 22 years, she never left her son alone on the road; not even after he entered medical college; always encouraged him to build a bright future; never failed to request any of the teachers in school and colleges for extending their helping hand for the child. Yes, she had made the dream a reality. None would dare laughing at them anymore. She was proud.

She was sitting in the tiny balcony of their small apartment. She could not somehow manage to accompany her to son to airport today – she did not know why she felt so weak at the final moment of his departure –after the taxi arrived. She told her husband to accompany him. All the residents of the small housing society were at their windows and balconies witnessing the moment as he left for America – she is still relishing the moment, while memories of bitter moments of past flashing now and then in her mind.

Suddenly a thought came to her mind. All her neighbours did always envy her for being a different mother. She also did not bother much due to lack of time. Wasn’t it possible to make them friends? Now she has plenty of time in hand. Perhaps she could help her neighbours to realize a similar dream for their children. How wretched a life does every child in every neighbourhood–family spend! Everyone wants to be successful; commutes the same way to the nearby city to visit best educational institutes as her son did – all of them dedicated and hard working - still most of them fails to grow into one like her son. Only thing they don’t know is the correct route to realise the dream. She must tell them how to find it! She was delighted with her own thought.

She left the broken chair, not repaired for years in order to curtail all unnecessary costs of life; opened the apartment door and knocked the door of her second floor neighbour. When did she visit them last? She could not remember – it did not matter to her. She was there to help them!

Mrs. Roy appeared at the door, “what a great day! How fortunate we are to have you at our place! Please come in. Let’s have evening tea together today. Has your husband return from airport?” Mrs Roy was bubbling with wonder. “Not yet, Suman’s flight will start at ten. He will come back only after it takes off.”  - she told, while enjoying listening to every word of her own. “How does the word “flight” sound to these poor neighbours?” - She was thinking; she was sure none of them had ever got a chance to fly in life. She would be really happy to help them. She sat on the mat spread over the small sitting space in her neighbour’s place, took the cup of tea Mrs. Roy offered and then stated slowly- “Where is Purnima? What is she doing these days? I did not see her since ages!”. “She is going to college and studying Botany”, mumbled Mrs. Roy out of little lowness. “How wretched a struggle kids have to do these days” – she became audible as she started explaining her child’s miseries on her way to college, but still looking depressed. “Why don’t you send her to America for higher studies? See I am telling you how to. Go to her college and talk to the professors. They will help her to take a GATE test, which is must for visiting educational institutes there. Then there is a library called USIS. You can take her there for further consultation – they are so helpful, always help students to study in America. Only thing Purnima has to do is study harder and you need to arrange some money.” She finished in a single breath. Mrs. Roy was listening to her sitting motionless as she was sinking into the dream “is it at all possible for us?” She called her husband as Katyayani paused for a moment –“listen what didi is telling, even we can send Purnima to America”. Mr. Roy, a thin middle aged fellow arrived in the sitting room, visibly disturbed by her wife’s hasty call which forced him to leave the day’s newspaper. Katyayani started it all over again, only to be interrupted in the middle, “do you think my only daughter should leave home for America to accompany your ladylike son? No way! Listen, we are simple middle-class people, want to be where we are - neither going to give our daughter to a university clerk of humble means, nor to an NRI doctor”. Katyayani became pale for a moment. How dare this dyspeptic fellow talk to her like this? Or how come he imagines this much – the ugly dark girl like Purnima for her fair and accomplished son? Shame that she wanted to help them! She did not want to spend a single moment more there. She bid hasty bye to an embarrassed Mrs. Roy before leaving. The door closed behind with a bang. 

Katyayani was in sheer confusion. What she would do now? She had enough time in hand to do something good to neighbours. “Well, why not try with the Basu’s in the 3^rd floor?” she thought as she knew that they have a son studying in a Kolkata college. After all, she would not need to face an arrogant father of an ugly daughter, ufff! She made a move to the 3^rd floor. “O dear, how fortunate I am today! Come didi, take a seat, let’s chat for sometime today – I know now you have time” –Mrs Basu seemed to be really by her friendly tone. Katyayani entered and placed herself on the corner of the divan, on the other side of which books were piled up – usual scene in such kind of home with a child studying in college.  “So, the boy is studying chemistry” – she was observing as Mrs. Basu has already slipped into kitchen to get water for the guest. “Then the boy has a good scope to visit America” – she murmured.  She finished the glass of water, then gave herself some time before coming to the topic – “what is your son doing now?” Mrs. Basu sounded normal: “well, going to college and coming back everyday, don’t know how much he is studying; or why to bother so much. He is grown up now” – little worry was not hidden in the mother’s voice either. “Then why don’t you send your son to America?” Katyani modified her speech this time – “See, America is good for these children, they can study and work there, which will make the study more interesting” and then started explaining how to make an arrangement for sending the son to America. Mrs. Basu listened for sometime and then unexpectedly interrupted her, “But didi, he is my only son, how shall I send my only son so far from home? I cannot even think of that. No, I would not let him even if he wants. What a misery it is for our kind of parents whose son stay so far from home, only to visit home once in 5 years. They cannot even come back to perform the last rites of parents, I have seen this with my little maternal cousin.” She was almost into tears “I don’t know how you send Sumit so far such way – you must be a mother with iron heart. Don’t you feel miserable today? Katyayani was speechless in front of her talkative neighbour; she could not stand it any more and finished telling – “well, think over it, may be we will talk later. I have to make a move now.” She came back to her apartment. It is already dark outside, she switched on the light, and the room suddenly seemed too vacant and discoloured.  They could neither paint it since they have purchased it, not could manage to buy any suitable furnishing; they saved every possible paisa to buy her son’s ticket to America. She suddenly felt a creepy emptiness - Will she be able to see her son again before her death? Will he be able to come back if she dies tomorrow? How crooked Mrs. Basu is to tell such horrible stories in the happiest day of her life? She must be too envious – envious like a witch! She was into tears now – may all the Gods should protect her son abroad and send him back whenever she want to see him.

Katyayani’s husband came back home in the middle of the night to find his wife speechless – she avoided to talk to him for next couple of days. She came back to normalcy after she received the first call from her son from abroad - He would have to work hard for the next few years but he already met many students from other countries like him in the university – they made good group of friends. Katyayani was happy again – she would soon try harder to convince her neighbours about sending their children to America. Such a wonderful country it is!

Five years passed. Katyayani does not visit neighbours anymore and spends most of her time in the balcony – all boneheads, none ready to listen to her; some even started mocking at her these days, asking when is Sumit coming to visit them. Sumit could not visit in the meantime due to work pressure, she knows – anyway he gives a call regularly, it was every week in the beginning, now it is once a month. She does not mind – as long as her only son is happy in the wonderland. He is happy and successful she knows – so she too. Why should she bother about some dumb neighbours? Only thing she cannot still resist is calling neighbours who pass by her balcony. “Hello Mr. Choudhury, listen – what is your son doing these days? Why don’t you send him to America? It is such nice country…………..”