Letter to my Son

[On her son’s birthday while he was in college, she wrote him a letter.

Today, on his 50th birthday, he reminisced the last 33 years and how those words had made him what he was.

That was the best gift his mom had given him.]


Dear Son,

Happy Birthday!

Hope you liked the presents. I don’t know how to knit sweaters as charmingly as your grandmom did. But I tried. So that you could feel the warmth of your mother when you’re cold.

Dad sends his love.

We’ve transferred some extra ‘pocket money’ in your account. Party well with your friends.

Son, we don’t meet often now. And that makes it difficult for us to understand how you have been and what have you been up to. Conversations over the phone are no doubt a respite.

You’ve grown up now. Or so I believe. I wanted to share a story with you, this birthday. And since you’re far away in college, there was no better way but to write it down and send it across. I’ll let you know the bits and pieces, lest it loses its charm for my young boy, and let you figure out the rest.

While I was in college, long back from now, I was friends with this girl who happened to be in the same section as me. A lovely little soul. It is her story I quote below:

He laughed snobbishly while she was running away, tears in her eyes, defying the strength that for so long she had managed to keep intact.

“You deserved it. All of it.” His words pierced through her soul while she listlessly walked through the side of the road, tired by now. That day, she had for the first time, felt a strange loss for she had lost much more than an average human mind could fathom. Within no time, she could imagine an entire life full of darkness before her. Questions. And more questions. She would never be able to explain anything to anyone. Anymore.

Her legs were failing her along with her spirit. She had wanted to reach home and desired to be left alone. Being alone could do the trick, may be, as she thought. Reconciling to the event that day was going to be a much more difficult task than she thought at that moment.

Forgive. Forget. She had practised it all along the not so long life she had yet had. However, his words, more than his deeds, had initiated heated arguments within her mind. That day remained etched in her memory forever. It took away the beauty of that precious little soul which from then on could never feel a thing. It had hurt where may be he hadn’t even expected to. She could not forgive. And forgetting was beyond her power.

You must be wondering as to why would I bore you with an event you may not even relate to. But son, the time has come in your life when you would be taking your own decisions without consulting anyone of us. I understand that. Completely. You wouldn’t even feel it right if we fussed around much, your dad and me. But there are things I want you to remember, always.

People, well most of them, will trust you. Don’t break their trust. It takes no time to hurt people but we can never imagine how long the pain lasts. Your words, your actions, don’t let them be a curse upon the soul of those whose lives pass by yours. If there is anything you must do, it is to bring sunshine wherever you go.

Touch people’s lives. In a way that it heals them from within. Don’t let your words or actions cause a scar on someone. It lasts forever, even if you may fool yourself into believing that it would be good with time. It doesn’t.

Be an inspiration, if you can.

A smile. A happy memory.

In the end, it will all be memories. Us and you, and everything else. Be a good one.

Happy birthday, my boy! Rise and shine like a star.