Of all the wild oats that got sown in me (and some of them reaped too), there was one wild oat that I had a chance to harvest, stays extremely close to my heart.
How many "wild" oats you ask??? I honestly don't remember! My job was to make sure they got sown. It didnt matter where. A few came with some what positive feelings and a few came with a lot of vengeance. Darkness.
But Kedara was born out of goodness. I traveled miles and miles to nurture him. And his soul. We both battled together. Batted on the same time for a change to stay alive. We swam across oceans and rivers, we walked across deserts. In distress and sometimes in sheer joy for the beautiful nature. In search of food in our famine filled lives. I was hungry always.
In the most loneliest of the times, when there was no sign of any life any where else except in me, he used to kick me to reassure me that I was not alone.
And then one day in the deepest of the jungles, under a huge tree, with monkeys and bears for company, Kedara wanted to come out to see the world for himself. Not through his mother's wounded eyes. But through his fresh and happy eyes.
When he saw the world suckling on my chest, he looked at me for the first time. An ugly, scarred mother- and yet beautiful for him. He didnt know any other human being. He smiled at me reassuringly. Held on to my hand with his tiny fingers as if to promise me that he shall be with me always. I must have smiled at him for the first time. Maybe for the first time in my entire life.
A life time passed in that moment. To bless my son with happiness for the rest of his life, the joy he deserved, there was just one way out. To ensure he was safe and secure if not happy, the jungle was the place for him to be. But. If I were with him, They would find me. In no time. The tracks of my life will help all of Them find me. And then him.
When my boy slept peaceful and contented, with his stomach full, I looked at him for one last time.
I reached somewhere in the next few hours... My chest heavy for Kedara and his little mouth. But as I predicted, They did catch up with me. That moment made me realize I'd done the right thing by my son.
Till date, I do wonder what he is upto? My Kedara. My maternal instinct tells me that he is not dead. I choose to believe it this one time. Someone from our tribe once mentioned to me that our ancestors and our clan was gifted with a very sharp instinct. My instinct told me Kedara was happy. My gut told me he escaped Them. I live in hope that we never get to meet again.
A part of me told me that the other part of me was better off being apart.
How many "wild" oats you ask??? I honestly don't remember! My job was to make sure they got sown. It didnt matter where. A few came with some what positive feelings and a few came with a lot of vengeance. Darkness.
But Kedara was born out of goodness. I traveled miles and miles to nurture him. And his soul. We both battled together. Batted on the same time for a change to stay alive. We swam across oceans and rivers, we walked across deserts. In distress and sometimes in sheer joy for the beautiful nature. In search of food in our famine filled lives. I was hungry always.
In the most loneliest of the times, when there was no sign of any life any where else except in me, he used to kick me to reassure me that I was not alone.
And then one day in the deepest of the jungles, under a huge tree, with monkeys and bears for company, Kedara wanted to come out to see the world for himself. Not through his mother's wounded eyes. But through his fresh and happy eyes.
When he saw the world suckling on my chest, he looked at me for the first time. An ugly, scarred mother- and yet beautiful for him. He didnt know any other human being. He smiled at me reassuringly. Held on to my hand with his tiny fingers as if to promise me that he shall be with me always. I must have smiled at him for the first time. Maybe for the first time in my entire life.
A life time passed in that moment. To bless my son with happiness for the rest of his life, the joy he deserved, there was just one way out. To ensure he was safe and secure if not happy, the jungle was the place for him to be. But. If I were with him, They would find me. In no time. The tracks of my life will help all of Them find me. And then him.
When my boy slept peaceful and contented, with his stomach full, I looked at him for one last time.
I reached somewhere in the next few hours... My chest heavy for Kedara and his little mouth. But as I predicted, They did catch up with me. That moment made me realize I'd done the right thing by my son.
Till date, I do wonder what he is upto? My Kedara. My maternal instinct tells me that he is not dead. I choose to believe it this one time. Someone from our tribe once mentioned to me that our ancestors and our clan was gifted with a very sharp instinct. My instinct told me Kedara was happy. My gut told me he escaped Them. I live in hope that we never get to meet again.
A part of me told me that the other part of me was better off being apart.
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