Nurturing the Jackfruit

Sound of the thunder drummed in to my ears hard enough to bring me back from the sleep. It wasNurturing the jackfruit3 middle of the night and rain at this time of the year was quite unexpected. Cacophony of the rain hitting leaves was shoving my imagination towards the presence of some monstrosity in the vicinity. The terrified mind axiomatically led my arms to search for Anish to hold on .

But his side of the bed was vacant. The reminder of the reality brought in the pain that immediately overpowered all senses of horror. Anish was gone, he is dead. That car accident last week took him away from me forever.

 

The coldness in the weather outside was magnifying the need of his absent warmth. The sleep never touched my eyes after that. Probably it too has abandoned me for the night and god knows for how many million more nights to come. For rest of the night I remained eyewitness to every passing second on the wall clock. Like the pendulum of the clock my thoughts kept hoping between beautiful memories of past and cruel realization of the present.

 

Singing of the birds drew my awareness to the fading darkness in the world outside. I gathered my tired strength to pull myself up and somehow managed my unwillingly soul to get to the window.

The morning was as beautiful as ever exception being the view to eye was not reaching to the heart today.

The Jackfruit tree in the courtyard has gave birth to its first bunch of flower of the season. Uniquely these flowers have popped out in one thinner stem of the tree. Anish hated Jackfruit.

 

In few weeks all the lives around moved on to their regular but not me. I was stuck in the past like forever. I started living most of the time alone. Casual friends stopped checking after few attempts and closed ones tried for little longer. Every morning I stood by the window to feel the beauty of the rising sun but all I could see was the attached memories. The Jackfruit flowers have turned in to small fruit.

 

Time passed and the Jackfruit kept on getting bigger. The attached stem of the tree has bent considerably because of its weight.

 

My mother hasn’t given up on me yet. She kept on making calls trying to make me understand that I need to let things go. After several unsuccessful attempts she finally decided to pay me a visit.

It was end of the summer and almost six month had passed since Anish was gone. I and my mother were sitting in my courtyard.

 

“I can’t forget him mom, his memories are in everything around” I tried explaining the pain.

“I understand your pain Anjali, I too lost your father early. But child, If I would have been still holding on to it I won’t have been able to grow you up this well.” she tried making me understand with a motherly hug

“How is it possible?” I asked with tears rolling down from my eyes.

 

A huge sound of something falling and hitting the ground drew our attention. The jackfruit has broken down a part the containing stem out of the tree.

 

Mother kept staring at that fall location for few minutes. She then spoke with extremely calm voice.

 

“Stop nurturing the Jackfruit Anjali” 

 

“What?” I asked trying to make sense of what she just said.

 

“Your pain is like that Jackfruit and your life is the attached stem. By repeatedly thinking about how your life would have been, if Anish was still alive, you are nurturing your pain. You are making it bigger and heavier every passing day” She cleared her point then gazed in to my eyes and continued.

“Rather you should nurture the stem, your life, by imagining how he would have wanted you to live your life. And turn those imaginations in to reality.”

 

“He wanted to open a Kids school for me. He knew that I love children. “I realized I was smiling.

 

My mother separated the jackfruit from the stem and brought it to me.

 

“It is really heavy” she giggled.

 

I took the fruit and threw it out of the boundary..

 

“I don’t need it, Anish hated Jackfruit” I replied with a smile which immediately replicated itself on my mother’s face.

 

 

“One problem with gazing too frequently into the past is that we may turn around to find the future has run out on us.”    -Michael Cibenko

                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

                         “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” :-)

 

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