Short Stories

... Stories don't just conjure themselves up; Reality fuels them and they in turn melt into your perception, become your idea...

The Binding Force...

He was sitting in front of the TV, headset hung over his head.. listening

intently to the pravachan being aired. The headset was necessary, for it

would allow him to listen to the pravachan without disturbing anyone else

at home. He had had his usual day at office and had traveled back home by

bus, as usual. Probably he liked being by himself, and so he always listened

intently to the TV.

The 'anyone else' he dint want to disturb, included Barkha, his wife. He
had very little in common with her...or maybe it had grown to be that way. 

She was one of those modern day independent minded women, who would

not let herself be subjugated to male domination. She worked hard at office 

and worked hard at home. She had worked hard to be a good child (during her
childhood of course). The result was this expectation from everyone to be
perfect. "No chomping" you would oft hear her admonish. Gagan wished his
mother won’t say that often. He felt like chomping loudly and chomping
more when mum said it too often. But he always kept this little urge to
himself, till now at least.

Barkha had only just entered home, about three quarters of an hour ago. 
Gagan had been sleeping till then, after coming back from school in the
afternoon. Now, Gagan was studying, Barkha overseeing his work and
cooking alongside. She wanted her son to score well, she would say. Though it
was those perfect marks she probably saw her son with. And she worked
hard for that too. "You don’t have scope to leave any loopholes, my dear"
she would wisely say. Though Karan supported this statement, and shared
the same desire to see his son do well, he never ventured to affirm this in
front of her, or even say anything about studies to Gagan. It’s better left to
her, he thought, perhaps wisely. But inwardly he had many experiences to
share with his son and many things to tell him. Nevertheless, he didn’t.
 
It was a hot day. Gagan had been stuck on this sum for far too long a
time. Barkha had taken a half day to be with her son. She too was getting.
irritated, 'you dimwit, haven’t you learnt how much is Sin 30 degrees?' there was 
this steam in the air, that you generally see just before the pressure cooker's 
whistle blows off. And soon enough, the inevitable happened. Gagan
shouted, Barkha snapped and slapped..Karan frowned, eyes still stuck on the
TV. Barkha snapped again, Gagan shouted louder, Karan moved, hesitated,
then shouted - the whistle had blown off.

There were times when they had disagreements between them, Karan and
Barkha. But they hardly shouted at each other.. perhaps they always felt too 
full in the stomach to do that. But this was different. it was their son... 
Karan and Barkha's son. The embodiment of the 'WE' they might have
dreamed about in their younger days.. oh those days......
 
So Gagan was the only thing they had in common, the binding force. They
always seemed to agree somehow on issues concerning their son. Each of
them had logical suggestions to offer on those issues and an open mind to
accept suggestions too. It was Gagan who unknowingly took the burden of
keeping them together.
They loved their child and loved each other for their child. The fact
remained, though, that they all loved each other. And THAT was the force
that bound them together.