best hindi story:Whenever that old wooden door of the cupboard opens, a familiar smell spreads throughout the room – a mixed fragrance of cotton clothes, sandalwood and mother’s love. Today, at the age of 59, when the long experiences of life have grayed my hair, that cotton saree kept in the topmost corner of the cupboard makes me the same mischievous little girl again in a moment.
That day of the year 2017 is still fresh in my memories, when mother left us all and went on a journey of no return. With her departure, the glow and that motherly shade of the house vanished. But even after so many years of her departure, this saree is the greatest feeling of mother’s presence for me. Whenever I feel tired or lonely at any point in my life, I silently go to the cupboard and take out my mother’s saree.
Countless childhood memories seem to be tied to the pallu of this saree. I remember how in my childhood I used to hold tightly to the pallu of my mother’s saree out of fear in the crowd of the fair. That pallu used to be the safest fort in the world for me. Whether you get hurt while playing, hide your face while crying, or seek shade in the scorching sun.
That step of mother was my whole world.
As years passed, I grew up, got involved in my responsibilities and household and myself reached this stage of age (59 years). But my age never came in the way of my mother; I always remained the same little girl to them. When he died in 2017, it seemed as if the banyan shade had suddenly been removed from his head. During that difficult time when mother’s things were being packed, I kept this favorite saree of hers with me as a memento.
Even today, whenever evening falls and there is silence in the house, I spread that saree on my lap. When I touch the fabric of the saree with my fingers, it feels as if the warmth of mother’s wrinkled, soft hands still resides in it. Many times, when I feel very sad, I wrap that saree around my shoulders. As soon as I do this, I feel a strange peace, as if mother herself has come and hugged me and is saying softly, “Don’t worry daughter, I am right here.”
At this turning point of age, I realize that mothers never go away from their daughters. They breathe within us in the form of the lessons they have given, their memories and such small signs. This mother’s saree is not just a cloth for me, but is that immortal embrace of mother, which even today makes me feel immense love and security.