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The 101 tale

100 for people has always been a number which speaks of glory, whether it's a perfect score of Mathematics for a friend of mine or a glorious century for Tendulkar, the world has always acknowledged this number. What makes 99 less significant or 101 less prominent is however debatable.

My 101 tale is dedicated to the person who turned an introvert geek into a blogger. After 100 blogs, however insignificant they might be, I feel a lot more confident and way more happier as I look back at them. Stories always find a way to reach us, this is one of them.

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Amina folded her hand to mutter a prayer one last time as she boarded the bus leading to the train station. She had been away for a long span of time for the first time in her life. She had been so used to being within the four walls of her home that it became the world to her. It was some months back when her children had decided to send her for haz, to the holy city of Mecca. After losing her husband, Amina had vowed to live her life for her children and her eyes moistened when she thought about how considerate her children had grown. What more could she dream of!

Amina had grown anxious as the day of departure arrived, she was happy to be accompanying her relatives for the pilgrimage but how could she leave her kids back at home, they were not used to being at home without her. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she prepared biryani to feed her children. She would cook everything they loved one last time before embarking on the journey.

At the wee hours of an autumn morning, Amina boarded the train leading to Bombay. She had never seen a sea, her son had described it to her as the reflection of the sky and the more she thought about it, the more she grew anxious. Her salt pepper streaks of braided hair spoke of wisdom that she had gained in these many years but she was yet to meet the sea, the world to her outside her home a whole new place.

There was the sea in front of her, she gasped as she saw the unending coastline. No wonder the elders always had advised to have a forgiving heart as wide as the sea, this made sense to her as she beheld the mighty blue coastline.

Life had suddenly turned adventurous for her: a bus ride, a train ride and a sea voyage. Amina folded her hands and muttered a silent prayer, her heart ached as she worried for her children back home but she couldn't deny the fact that she was delighted to be a part of these new experiences. Her heart fluttered each time she felt the wind brush against her skin, the air felt lighter when she compared it to the dense air of the kitchen.

Mecca gave her a plentiful of experiences, she felt a keen sense of fulfillment. When it was finally the day of return, her eyes moistened when she thought about her children back home. She carefully packed some dates and raisins for them. She knew, anything she cooked for them was their favorite. They adored their ammi to the extent that they dared not offend her.

Back home, Amina's son Javed, hurried to the station. It was the expected day of return of their ammijan. He fetched his silk kurta and hurried from home. He could smell mutton biryani being cooked. It was a ritual which they followed, whenever any person would return from haz, that family threw a feast for the neighborhood. It was done out of goodwill. The whole family was ecstatic about Amina's return. They had cleaned their home and made every possible arrangements.

Javed could hear the sound of an approaching train. His eyes glittered as he saw the train approach the station. His gaze scanned a thousand unknown faces in search of his ammi. The names of pilgrims were called out one by one, he was growing anxious. The names subsided but he could neither trace his mother nor could hear her name. At that instance, he heard her name being announced. As he pushed the crowd to make his way to reach her, he could see no one. They started lowering her boxes one by one. The air grew dense, people started lowering their caps. The boxes lay near his feet. He could see a tin of dates, he remembered how as a child he had always fought for an extra share of dates. Today he had a tin full of it but…

He quietly slipped those boxes in the car and headed for home, he shivered as he thought of the scene back home. Scenes from life kept on flashing as he gulped frozen tears. The car stopped with a thud, he could smell jasmine in his courtyard. That very smell reminded him of Ammi who had toiled hard to plant that tree.

Salma came running to Javed, she checked the seats of the car. She could see her Ammi's boxes but not her. She threw a hundred questions but what could Javed say. He stood there hanging his head low. Salma broke down tearing her hair, she knew well what it meant.

The chill of the night settled in their hearts. Javed could hear something crack within but his eyes refused to shower tears, he couldn't offend his ammi even when she was not alive. He was drenched in the smell of Jasmines. In it, he sought his ammi every evening.




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