Born Twice

                                                Nidhu Bhusan Das

           I have two birthdays. You may find it crazy. It is true, I tell you. You may think of the theory of the transmigration of soul, return of the soul to the immanent soul and the cycle of birth and rebirth. No, I have no idea of such theories and concepts. In fact, I have two moms, one left the world long ago and the other came after her departure. I don’t know if it is a case of resurrection. What I am sure about is that both my mothers have same physical features and psychological traits. Their affection for me is the same. However, there is one difference. The resurrected mom is not indulgent, and often reprimands me whenever I am naughty. Not only that, she is quite autocratic and never allows me to question her command and go against her will. I should not say my mom is headstrong because I believe what she does is good for me. She often says: ‘Dear, you are my only son. I live for you. I have none other than you.’ When she says so, I see in her eyes tears which she tries to hide from me. Maybe, it is the tears of joy of having a naughty son.

          Yesterday I acceded to the request of a friend to replace him at night to attend on his father who is in the hospital. When mom came back from office in the evening, I in fear told her of it. She became furious and ran straight upstairs leaving the tea on the table after the first sip. After minutes, I heard her calling: ‘Nimu !’ I in no time ran to her, and, perturbed, she told me to sit in front of her. I was shivering like a sacrificial goat immediately before the sacrifice. But she did not spit fire, but said in a tranquil tone: ‘I am angry with you not because you have decided to help your friend. We should do such a thing. What disturbs me is that you have forgotten you are under treatment and need sound sleep at night. I don’t view tv and work late at night because your sleep may be disturbed. I am angry at your stupidity. I give you 30 minutes to find someone else to be beside your friend’s father in the hospital at night. That’s all’ ,concluded my mom.

         I understood I had to act according to her command. I began search by telephone and at last found my friend Amit who volunteered to help me out. I immediately went to mom to tell. She smiled but remained silent. At dinner she was again tender and even fed me with her own hand. She does so when she is in joy and mom is happy when I am obedient.

        She tells me she is my biological mother. She is happy when I hang to her in the crowd of friends and relatives.. She tells people:’ My son has two birthdays – 2^nd October and 16^th May.’   I believe my mom who knows better than anyone else in such matters, no matter if the world think it is crazy.