Staring into nothingness Ubaid Kareem was distracted by the doorbell. It was a hot afternoon which became hotter in the absence of electricity. The wind was dry as usual and the mouth was parched. The bowl of water kept for birds had been empty too. Lazily he got up to attend to the door. The naughty children of the neighbourhood had rang the bell in mischief. Ubaid was sure it was them still he had opened the door. He looked listlessly at the road facing his door and then resigned to his room like a tired old man. Seven months had passed but he still was in a daze. Losing a mother was never easy. He loved her dearly. At 37, single and mourning everything felt like a curse. His shop of electronic goods where he worked as a salesman had been bulldozed. The owner of the shop Mr. Jaiswal was hospitalized due to shock. Listed as an illegal construction the government had demolished the shop. It was the flavor of the season and somehow Ubaid saw it all coming. He knew bribes given by Mr. Jaiswal to silence the authorities will not fetch good results. The government was hell bent to go by their plans.

Kanpur, an industrial city in the central-western part of the state in Uttar Pradesh, India had many opportunities for those who were hardworking. Ubaid knew that it was just a matter of time when he would be busy with work. He had shared with his friends that he is looking for work. He was hopeful but life was boring, insipid and burdensome at the moment. Memories with his mother were flooding back to him. He was very close to her as she was a confidante. Friends couldn’t ever fill the void she had left by her passing. In the evenings after returning from work he used to help her in the kitchen amidst updates from the workplace. He discussed his customers with her at length and pressed her for feedback. Many times his mother advised him on how to tap on the nerve of the customer and make them buy things. She herself was a salesgirl in her hay days and knew the tricks of the trade. She loved her job and felt Ubaid had gotten this trait from her. Till her last breath she was working and that was pretty impressive. 

A thief early in the year had broken into the house and in a frenzy shot his mother. She bled to death and Ubaid’s world had gone dark. 55 years of age was not the time to die. She was snatched brutally without any proper goodbyes. He felt robbed and lost without her. Financially they were doing well and were happy with their incomes. Ubaid’s father Arif was an electrician who had earned well. They were a family of small needs and their house was equipped with necessary essentials. Luxury was out of question as they all loved simplicity. One harsh winter the road lampost needed repairs so to fix it his father looked into the matter and eventually got electrocuted. Ubaid was only 13 years old then. His mother had been very brave  and saw to it that he did not miss out on father’s love. She willingly tried to fill in for her husband and was successful most of the time. His mother was his go to person. They were friends, critics and family all rolled into one. Good things don’t last for a lifetime. His world had crashed, yes.

After a month of struggle and interviews Ubaid finally got a job in the leather store that catered to wallets, belts, shoes and bags. The pool of his pain was overflowing still but work got him busy and helped him cope. He made friends with customers as well as colleagues. It was a huge store in a mall and life was beginning to look good again. The emptiness within resurfaced whenever he saw a son-mom duo shopping together. Trips to the local market with her were fun and bliss. It was beautiful and very close to heart. Such visuals always brought back bittersweet memories in his corporate hours which he used to brush aside by a smile. This job also helped him bump into a girl who he thought he could spend the rest of his life with. One day after getting over from work he saw her distributing sweets to the street children. She worked in an NGO that looked after abandoned people. Time to time her organisation indulged in such activities. The NGO was twenty minutes away from the mall and her sight became a regular thing for him to see. 

Parul needed to give a wallet to her boss on his birthday so she visited Ubaid’s shop. Ubaid saw to it that she got the best deal. Parul too often saw him at the shop and found him decent and well mannered. The attraction was mutual and later they both learnt that both of them knew about each other’s existence and line of work. Meetups at the nearby cafe helped them find more common things about each other. Ubaid missed his mother the most. He so desperately wanted her to meet Parul but he knew that would never happen. Parul in her thirtieth year looked like a flushed teenager. She was slim, tall and independent. She was an orphan and raised in a foster home. The caretaker of the foster home was very very close to her and she shared all important stuff of her life with her. Nandini Dasgupta gladly heard all stories of Parul whenever she could from her busy schedules. They shared a bond that had a very good understanding without any expectations or conditions. Parul wanted to introduce Ubaid to Nandini as she felt his simple, gentle and sweet avatar would charm her heart.

Same year in September 2022 one drowsy night Ubaid woke up because of thirst. It was past midnight. He poured water from the earthen pot and started drinking. Before he could finish he heard a sound and a very familiar smell encircled him. He breathed deeply to fill up his lungs. Confusion, ecstasy and dilemma all at once caught him.

‘Hope you like the girl Ubaid that I have chosen for you.’ a voice echoed.

A voice so familiar and real that he froze. Ubaid was in pure shock. A sweet shock that got him shaking to no end. He hissed. 

‘Amma, is it you? Where are you? Why can’t I see you? You still sound the same. Please show yourself.’ Ubaid asked and requested deliriously.

‘I can see you Ubaid. But don’t ask me to do things that are not in my capacity. Aren’t you thankful that you can hear me atleast. I have been talking to you the minute I left you but only now can you hear me. This is a miracle. I have been all along with you all this while in this house. I even rang the bell on that blazing day of June and unknowingly you let me in. Oh, it was joy to be back in the house where I have always belonged. I am so happy that you can hear me now.’ added his mother. 

Ubaid was speechless. He wondered how this is even possible. He buried her. He sobbed for months on end but she never showed up. His life was hell and still she never spoke. Now when everything is making sense this is happening. Was it a test by the controller of the realm? Do people really stay and never leave? These questions were spinning in his head. Ubaid for once was grateful as well as questionable. All this while his mother was with him and he could not feel her around. The smell was never obvious. The voice was never heard even though she said that she kept talking to him. Was it his trauma that he couldn’t hear his mother? Does depression create blocks for the departed. The depression of losing her had blocked her voice and smell but now after Parul’s entry in his life it has unblocked it all and he can witness the miracle of God? Ubaid was sweating profusely and needed more water. He reached for the pot and poured some more. Drank in a hurry and kept looking up.

‘You need not look up son. I am right beside you.’ his mother declared.

Euphoria engulfed him. The feeling that his mother is right beside him made him feverish with joy. It was worth a million dollars. It was totally unpredictable and wonderful. 

‘Amma, what made you choose a Hindu girl for me. All your life you practised Islam and whenever we spoke you always wanted a Muslim girl for me. How come this change of heart?’  asked Ubaid. 

‘I am surprised too.’ his mom declared. 

The night drifted in talks. The mother and son exchanged all that was amiss for so many months now. Dawn was knocking at their door. The sunrise glistened on his face and fate. The terrace was a beautiful refuge all night. It was a different morning. A reminder beeped on his cellphone – Meet Nandini Ma at 4pm today. He smiled and started calling out to his mother. 

‘Amma, would you come along to meet her?’ inquired Ubaid.

‘Ubaid, I live only in this house. Access to other places is restricted. Don’t know how this is but this is how it is going to be till when I don’t know.’ shared Ubaid’s mother.

‘Home is where the heart is Amma. I am happy with the setup.’ communicated Ubaid and started to get ready. 

A bell rang and his mother shouted to go get the door. The door seemed to have other plans as Ubaid just couldn’t listen as his ears were only filled by his mother’s voice.