The Other Real Side

The Other Real Side

I remember when I was months old covered in a soft mink blanket and being taken out of it every now and then to get my butt cleaned by my mother. Because I was so helpless to even eat my food even I had my arms and hands to have it. As time passed I grew up as a 1-year-old baby boy and so did my tantrums. Most of the time crying, asking for unhealthy foods.

My mom always being there to help me out and understand everything without me telling a word. My father being a strong man and making available most of things even if he had to work in nights for it.

Time passed and I was admitted to the school, got busy in studies, extra circular activities. Coming back to home and finding my food ready to eat .Never had to worry, to find my things done. Years later I turned 18, became stupid and intelligent enough. Again remained busy in worldly things, and never realized that my parents who grew me up to this, that now I am able to stand on my own, making decisions for my own benefit. I never really thanked them for what they did. I never behaved grateful to god for what he gave him. But now when I have turned 50 plus and I am myself a parent and I realize what it means if your child says only once that they love you a lot, no matter what happens. Big houses, assets, 5-star delicious cuisines, world tours means nothing in front of two good words from your children.

But in this society, we live in I believe there will always be miss-communication between parents and children both. Though now when I have realized what it means to receive ungrateful comments from your children. I don’t have my parents around me to say sorry to them. sorry for being grateful, sorry for being busy in my worldly affairs, sorry for being not so good boy of yours. while recalling all the thoughts since my birth, my eyes are blurry enough to unable to see the green lines on the ventilator behind my bed I am laid on.

Happily waiting for the day when the lines on the ventilator screen will turn straight and my oxygen mask will be removed and I will be laid to rest. Then never again I will have to see anyone’s unhappy face because of my bedridden cancer condition

I will be finally able to say thank you to my lord for everything and meet my parents to hug them in the gardens of heaven.


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Muneeb Zargar

Muneeb Zargar

My name is Muneeb. Proud Storyteller from Kashmir & an Electronics Engineer by choice.

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