I looked up. The ladder was a steep hike. It looked like an old room. The fan was in motion and right below the fan sat my father who had brought me in for the interview. I stood at the bottom of the stairs a little anxious at the awaited climb. The gentleman sitting at the old desk opposite my dad motioned me to go up. I was to meet with someone to probably decide upon my job profile.
As I climbed, I could sense my struggle to reach the next level. I could not be distracted or lose my focus as that would probably result in my missing a fine step and come hurdling down with disappointment and shame.
I would look down every now or then to find the silent eyes of my father and the gentleman following me up the ladder. As I stepped onto the first floor, I felt a sense of relief but the corridor appeared old and grey. I didn’t feel too comfortable but the thought of going down the dreaded ladder was not an option at all.
I strolled down the corridor with many doors and windows. I peeped into many rooms as I wandered looking for some sign of life. The quest was to end with my dying hope understanding that I was probably alone with no one to speak to me or interview my abilities. Just when I was about to turn around and leave the abandoned and creaking floor, I heard the opening of a closet in the room close by.
I entered the room cautiously. The fan was in full speed and I saw a familiar blue school uniform with a black cape. The cape flew up and down with the strong impact of the fan air. The hair was short and the lady had her back to me. She was busy trying to reach out to a stack of books at the top shelf of the closet. I walked up to her to help out. She felt my presence and turned to me.
Our eyes glistened with tears. My face lit up with love and it was a surprise beyond my expectations. “Mum! What are you doing here?” I asked her still in genuine shock. She smiled at me but her calm was in strange contrast to my hyped reaction. She opened her arms inviting me for a hug. I ran into her arms. “Where have you been mom? I just didn’t know where to find you. Is everything okay with you?” She spoke softly and slowly. “I’m fine Shama. I’m happy where I am. I have my own space and its nice and quiet.” I felt a little desperate sensing her decisive tone, “But at least tell me where to come and meet you? How will I find you?” I wanted her to understand my fear of losing her again. She pulled me back a little to look into my eyes.
“Here, take these books,” she handed me the stack of books from the old closet. I took them remembering the reason for my visit. I looked into her eyes trying to read her mind. And then it struck me. She was leaving me for good now. This was our last meeting. She knew that we would never be able to come across such accidental confrontations. I held her tightly and we cried understanding the evident separation that awakened me to the reality of it being just a dream.
As I sat up in my bed, I felt a heaviness in my heart. My mum had passed away almost a year ago. We had been making a connection through my dreams since her death at certain intervals through the year. This dream was special in many ways. It indicated her loving presence, deep messages related to my life and her final good-bye.
My heart had held the deep silence of my mum during her last stages of cancer. I had sensed her fear of sudden death but more importantly the lack of time to accept the evident end. She had a lot to say but the fear and finality of losing her children and partner had crushed her desire to express herself. She was still in her jumbled thoughts when she left us. I felt her strong presence in my life through my dreams and each one left a significant message to interpret.
It’s been almost seven years now. I dream a lot still but that final good-bye was not a part of my fantasy. She never strolled into my dreams again or hugged me tightly sensing my fears. And today I was reminded of her and the stack of books that she offered me while embarking on her final journey. She knew, I would lose all purpose in life upon losing her and would probably resort to walking down the same familiar surroundings, losing all heart to discovering new possibilities and challenges.
And so, she made me climb the steep and frightening ladder. I got through an empty and grey corridor with no signs of life. I reached another level to find my purpose. She had been a teacher herself. The books she passed onto me guaranteed my salvation and means to get through life without wasting the possibilities that she saw in her daughter.
I teach with a passion. I believe without a doubt that my passion will bring about a change. I do this, to make my mother proud and to let her know that even though she left without saying much, I understood her silence!
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