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Srishti-2022   >>  Short Story - English   >>  Third day of the silent speech

Nithya Mohan G

UST Global

Third day of the silent speech

"I'm worried.. m just worried. Its three days since he has spoken. Somethings seriously wrong with my boy.." said Meera trying hard to stop her tears. "Don’t worry, it is not as if he cant speak. Just that he wont talk to us." her husband consoled her. "Don’t worry??! He not talking to us means we have done something wrong. He is troubled. And you are saying me 'not to worry'??" Meera was aghast at her husband’s nonchalance. "No Meera, calm down.. He is growing up. His silence need not mean that he is angry with us. Could be some other trouble. Wait, today night we will talk to him.." Madhav soothed her.

 

Tears poured down the cheeks of 12-year-old Krishna who was overhearing their conversation from the top of the stairs. He ran back into his room, threw himself on his bed and sunk his face into the pillow to stop the tears.

 

12-year-old Krishna was a happy, lucky boy as his mother often told him. “See this mark, this is what makes you lucky” Meera would tell him about the star shaped mark on his right forehead. He was the only child of his parents and was a pampered boy. He was also a favourite of his teachers at school despite his pranks, a dear friend for classmates and was a boy quite at peace with himself till he made the discovery.

 

He had gone to his parent’s room to ask his mother’s permission to stay over at a friends’ when he saw a diary in the bed. Being the curious boy, he was, he picked it up. It belonged to his mother. He opened a random page and started reading.. ‘We went and saw him. He is cute. So small.. so tiny.. He smiles in sleep..’ Not understanding anything he turned over to another page. ‘Today was the day. We took him home from the orphanage. We have named him Krishna. He is the blessing from Lord himself.’ Krishna could read only that much. The diary dropped down from his hands as he struggled hard to cope up with the truth. He was shocked. Dazed. He replaced the diary as it had been kept and went back to his room. 

 

                     ‘Orphanage’ The word flashed before his eyes. ‘I am a nobody who was adopted’ Just like the children in the church to whom he gave gifts, food and clothes on every birthday of his, he too was an orphan. An orphan who was adopted. And nobody had told him. Everyone had lied to him. He went down when he was called for dinner but had his food silently. He pushed away Meera and Madhav when they pulled him close and ran back to his room and closed the door.

 

                      That was three days ago. And it was three days since he had spoken to his parents. Now the shock had given way to grief. Tears flowed down his cheek every minute. “Atleast they could have told me.”, he thought, crying into the pillow. He lay there like that for a long time. When he heard footsteps, he looked up and saw Meeras face. “Krishna, come dear.. “ Meera called him. “Come to mother..” ‘Mother.’ The word stirred an emotion in Krishna which he had not known before. Rage shot through him like lightning. “Mother??”, he had thundered, “Mother?? Who’s mother? Anyway, not mine. I know I am not your son” Meera took one step back in shock. Madhav who was close behind raised his voice “Krishna!” “I read your diary. I know that I was taken from the orphanage..” Krishna’s voice softened, and his anger once again gave way to sobs. But this time he did not try to suppress them. Instead he wailed out.. Deep from the heart. 

 

                      Meera had stood rooted to the spot and had to be helped by Madhav out of the room. When he was sure that he was alone, Krishna stopped crying. He was sad. He wished they would come back and tell him that was not true. That he was their own son. But he knew that would never happen. Maybe he should leave home. Or maybe he should stay. His thoughts were wandering once again. In between he fell asleep. 

 

                    When he woke up the next day he sensed that Meera and Madhav were sitting on his bed. He looked at them and then shut his eyes tight. Madhav called him slowly.. “Krishna..” Madhav called. He did not move. “Krishna, Just listen to us.” said Madhav. Then Meera spoke “We wanted to tell you someday..but then we postponed it every time. It was something we wanted to forget. Also we did not know how you would take it. So we decided to keep it from you.”, she paused,” Krishna, that papers do not belong to you." Krishna opened his eyes and looked into his mother’s face. "Honestly Krishna", Meera continued, "It belongs to a young boy who was adopted. A boy named Krishna. But it is not you." "Then?" asked Krishna warily. "It is..", said Madhav, "Its a little boy's who would have been your brother had he been.." there was a pause "alive." Madhav completed the sentence. Krishna’s eyes grew bigger and redder as they unfolded the story to him. "After 2 years of marriage also we did not have any children Krishna. So, we decided to adopt. We took home this cute little boy of 3 months and called him Krishna. After he came into our life, it was as if we had been completed. His smile, his pranks... those fun-filled days.. And then for our tremendous joy we found out that we would be blessed with an own child of ours..- you. It was the happiest moments of our life. We attributed all our luck to our adopted son. But sometimes the best of times brings behind it the worst of times. We three were going to the hospital for a checkup on your mother when a truck collided with our car. We lost him Krishna.. we had him for only two months and we lost him. Whenever we talk about him, we start crying.. However, we decided to put behind that memory and start a new life with you. But the name stayed. We did not want to think of any other name for our child. So, we named you after him." Madhav stopped. Tears were streaming down the face of all the three.

 

                      Krishna gave a sob and threw himself upon his parents hugging them tight. And all the three were bonded in that warm embrace. "I love you.. I love you.." Krishna could only say that much to them. 

 

Meera sobbed her heart out as her memories flashed back to that awful day in the hospital after the accident. "Which one did I lose?" a dazed and badly hurt Meera had asked Madhav upon learning that she had lost one of her children. Madhav did not reply but picked up a seven-month-old Krishna from the cradle and hugged him close. "We still have him.." he had told her.

 

"You are mine.." breathed Meera’s heart as Krishna continued sobbing.. "Krishna came for Yashoda.. and so has he come for me.." 

 

Outside, in the garbage pile, as the flames engulfed the last of Meera’s diary, the page which Krishna had half-read became visible.. “Today was the day. We took him home from the orphanage. We have named him Krishna. He is the blessing from Lord himself. He has a star shaped mark on his right forehead. He should be lucky........” And then a strong wind blew it away.. out of sight..