Story of an Untold Story

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 32; the thirty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'An Untold Story'

"You miss her ??" asked the son to his father who was on the verge of entering into senility.

“I have never. Nor do I intend to.” was the sturdy reply.

Son sensed the succinct rudeness in his father’s reply. Trying to be indifferent he proceeded further.

“Well… true. You only miss someone when that someone is absent; mother is present in your heart and you can’t deny it.”

“See, you got me” said his father with a smile on his wrinkled face.

“Dad, I wish she was with us today. I could have seen tears in her eyes when I was about to go abroad for my job. I could have asked her to prepare all delicious desi dishes to eat.”

There were tears in his eyes while saying this. His throat was heavy; he missed his mother. He used to see her photo and keep staring at it wondering why she left him so early thus creating void space which was supposed to be filled by mother’s unconditional love.

“Your mother is no more Son. She is up there in the sky watching me and you, wanting us to be happy, contented with our lives and she would never want us to miss her” that’s what his father told him after his first day at school, when he saw two people escorting single child.

“You should leave for shopping now before the clouds start crying with you.”

“Haha… you’re impossible dad!! How easily you cheer me up by changing the topic.” he left having said that.

Shankar got up from his aaram kursi and went to balcony from where he could see the dark, heinous clouds about to captivate or threaten (he wasn’t able to decide which was the more appropriate word) the poor city. The first signs were flaunted in the form of vicious lightening followed by a clamorous thunder thereby marking the beginning of a melee.

He tried hard not to reminiscent; but the drop of rain made it inevitable for him to do so. His mind tried hard to control his emotions precipitated by his heart; but in vain.

Shankar came back that evening with his son Siddhart who was just 6 months old.

“Renu, where are you? Come soon. Take this Prasad and your naughty son. He has made my life miserable without you” yelled Shankar on opening the door. There was no reply. He went to bedroom and kitchen only to find she was nowhere. He was surprised by her absence. He thought to go and check out with neighbours. He put Siddhart in the cradle and while he was about to leave he found something unusual. That unusual was a white paper kept aside the baby in the cradle. He took it out and began to read.

It said:

Forgive me Shankar. Sorry that I had to write this letter. Before you read out the entire thing, I want to beseech forgiveness from you and our little baby.

Don’t search for me anywhere nor lodge a missing case with police. I am off- forever. You will never find me. No, don’t worry as I won’t kill myself for I would now, at last, start living life on my own terms and with the person I love. I am sad that the person I love is neither you nor Siddhart.

Yes!! That’s what I said, quite boldly, but it’s the truth. I tried hard, better to say desperately hard to love you, understand you, to accept the mutual relation with which was bound to live. But, I couldn’t. Love happens only once and the rest seems synthetic. No matter how hard you coax yourself to accept the synthetic relation as natural, it always disappoints and upsets you. That is exactly the thing with me.

I love only one guy and that is Ranjan- my school and college mate. We wanted to marry but my parents never allowed me to do so. They threatened me by saying if I wouldn’t, they would kill themselves. I ignored it thinking it was a fake one until my mother attempted suicide by trying to hang herself. This was hidden from you and your family. I was forcefully married to you. I tried to run away, but the threaten still blocked my way.

Finally, I thought that if we had a baby, they would be convinced that I have accepted you and would be indifferent to their threatening.

So after two years, we had a baby. I am sorry that I had to shower spurious love on you all these months; but that was the only way for me to reach my destination- Ranjan.

I have only one life and I cannot compromise. Compromising is for cowards; I pretended to be one, but it never gave me satisfaction. I don’t know what you are going to tell your child when he asks about his mother. Well, tell him anything: his mother was devil, immoral, careless or selfish as it would never matter to me as besides blood, Siddhart and I have nothing to care for. He is your sole onus; raise him by narrating any story.

Don’t call me stone-hearted. I have a heart filled of love for Ranjan and that’s the reason why my heart cannot generate or accept love for anyone else- you or the little naïve life that has entered into the world through me. When you try to fill your already filled heart with love and it doesn’t accommodate, you easily accost the person as “stone-hearted”.

I am no one to judge you; but as far as the time spent with you goes, you are a very good person. I don’t wish you to be single. Find someone whose heart still awaits love.

I am SORRY.

Ranjan’s,

Renuka.

 Shankar never married anyone because he loved Renuka- as she would say- one cannot generate or accept love for others when you already have a loving heart.

He never told Siddhart the true story about his mother as he never wanted Siddhart to lose respect for the one who was responsible for his life. The guilt of lying to his son about his mother’s unnatural death in an accident dented him from within.

There is no other choice. He thought to himself.

By this time, the cloud had engulfed the city, making life miserable for the ones whose past haunted them and had changed their life since then.

“Everybody has an untold story in their life. Your mother had one once and now I have one.”, he murmured to himself, but his voice was lost in cacophonous sound of rain.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.