Mom.
"Ouch!!" "How Many Times Have I Told You Riya Not To Mess Things In The Store Room"
I shouted from the store room to my 10year old daughter. Darkness and the dust was not letting me know what fell over me. But as the dust resided I saw a box I never knew I had. "Huh?!" "what is this?!" I was curious to see what it was. Forgotten about the clothes I came to search for. I brought the small wooden box in my room and opened it slowly giving it time so that it can maintain its rusty and dusty wood. "creak" it opened letting me know what was inside. "A ring??" I saw a ring carved with the beautiful letters of my parents. My eyes watered at the sight..."mom" I whispered. Letting me soak with all the feelings all the emotions that I had cooped up inside me. I missed her... the way she did my hair....the way see took care of me... the way she told me about my father...how much he loved me and would have wanted to put me to bed every night. I missed everything about her. As I regained myself from the trauma I concentrated on the box. Which was left with only "A diary" I picked it up in my hands gently stocking it's cover with my fingertips. The words written sending me goosebumps and making me more curious.......it said..........."THINGS I WANTED TO SAY BUT NEVER DID"
Mom?? I missed her.... her handwriting making me remember the time when she used to teach me how to write. The clumsy me always making silly mistakes and that women independent and strong always making me correct them. She had something in her. The way she uphold herself. The way she showed herself always up for a fight teaching me to never give up was it only me that felt something was missing or was it really the truth. Was she really that strong?? Than what is this diary about? Was she so venerable that I never got to know her? I never got to know my mom? But why? Why a diary not her daughter? Didn't she trust me enough to show me her weakest side? Why mom why??
I felt everthing I did till today was of no use cause today I had fallen as a daughter...... did I really not able to see the pain that was hidden in those eyes??
(Did she had something she wanted to say?? Was she so lonely that she never got a chance to open up?? what was it??) Everything about those letters made me more Intrested to read that diary... Has she written about me? Has she written about herself?Her pain her suffering or her venerabliliy?? or has she written about dad? "I wanted to read it all.. .. no I had to read it..". I thought "but not now after I have plenty of free time". I said and closed the box placing it beside my study table I went to do my daily house chores.
