The clinic was overflowing with patients. Viral fever had gripped many. Suketa Bakshi was in no hurry though it was her son’s 17th birthday. Being a doctor first was always very important. Jugal, a very accommodating and shy lad enjoyed these moments of waiting. He loved to explore cooking. Suketa had taught him well how to be self-sufficient whenever she got time. Jugal saw her absence as an opportunity to better himself every time. The mother-son duo had become too thick over the years and that was the highlight of their bonding. There were disappointments within whenever a dish went haywire but guidance and pep talk always colored those days beautifully. 

The birthday mostly was exclusively for the duo after the 15th birthday party was a runaway hit. Same year his father had met with an accident and succumbed to injuries thus making big occasions a quiet affair. The grief was immense but studies and patients added that healing touch to both respectively. Busy schedules often helped cope in such situations. While his mother was attending to patients as a hobby and duty Jugal used to revel in the memories of his father. They were solace for vacant places in the house. Each corner had something to offer. Birthdays meant conquering new depths. 17th was no different either. 

Suketa in her 36th year had become the master of her craft. She was a general physician and enjoyed singing too. Many times patients were lucky enough to hear a line or two whenever their health showed results. This was her way of enthusing them with a happy vibe post a check-up. Back home her singing had no audience nor she wanted to have one. Home was quality time with her son, a few hours of TV, medical journals and a bit of clay modelling. Weekends were mostly visiting people who mattered or a quiet escapade to a nearby city once in a month with Jugal. Life had challenges and blessings to offer and both were gregarious about it.

Jugal one fine day introduced Preeti to his mom. Suketa had a very lazy morning as the clinic was closed. The doorbell had rang and to her surprise Jugal had a very pretty lady holding a helmet when she had opened the door. 

‘Ma, meet Preeti. She has something to share if you allow.’ trembled Jugal.

‘O come Preeti. Come Jugal. Let’s sit and talk. Would you both prefer tea or coffee? Rain ain’t stopping any minute and both of you are drenched to the bone so a hot drink should save you from illness.’  asked Suketa.

‘Coffee and Thankyou.’ echoed Preeti. 

‘I too would prefer coffee Ma as that would be easier don’t you think?’ asked Jugal.

Suketa smiled and left them with towels. Jugal after changing clothes and giving a pair of his loose pajamas and shirt to Preeti left to help his mother in the kitchen. 

‘You simply surprised me just like your father used to. Do you have any intentions of spilling the beans? A couple of years ago when you left for work and used to come back late I thought you found somebody but never asked. Do I need to be looking forward to some good news, Jugal.’ inquired Suketa. 

‘It’s not what you think Ma.’ cleared Jugal. 

Jugal after completing his education pursued his dream job of being an architect. Cooking was a passionate hobby. When years back he had shared the news of being recruited to a reputed firm in the capital of India Suketa was ecstatic. Her husband too had been an architect as long as he had lived and this revelation had not come as any surprise to Suketa. Jugal was a very shy boy throughout but was very creative in his cooking too. He was handsome and he never was arrogant about it. A thin frame with expressive eyes added to his overall charm. As a mother she felt that he was a lady’s man and the vibes which she had noticed on one pouring August of 2000 was enough a reason to jump to conclusions but Jugal’s answer had confused her. 

‘My car broke down and she came to the rescue, Ma. The tyre got punctured just nearby so we walked home. It would have been rude to let her go without offering a hot drink as these rains aren’t stopping any time soon. Besides, she likes clay modeling just like you and dad so I thought there could be a common ground of interest if I invited her home.’ said Jugal. 

‘It was very kind of him to invite Mrs. Bakshi. I just love the rainy season and helping samaritans is not a bother at all. Besides I have seen him often on my way to work so he is not a complete stranger. On our way home I learnt that you too enjoy clay modelling. I am just a beginner but it would be fun learning and talking about it with you.’ joyfully added Preeti. 

The introduction was short, sweet and warm that reassured Suketa that it was a totally different angle from whatever she was thinking. She was also glad that Jugal corrected her before she could have made the situation awkward being Preeti’s first ever visit to her house. The visit only lasted half an hour amidst polite talks and light humor as Preeti had to rush to an earlier appointment with her client. She was a journalist who had just finished college and was aspiring to be a good one. A second visit was promised if Suketa was ready to allow her to be a looker and learner of her clay modelling escapades. On that note Jugal walked her to her bike and she sped in those incessant rains adventurously without changing the clothes he had offered earlier. 

‘Ma, I have often seen her too on my way to work. I have something to share if you are all ears.’ Jugal asked politely. 

‘Sure Jugal. Just give me half an hour and I will just finish whatever I was doing and be back right here.’ Suketa confirmed. 

‘You see Ma, a long time ago when the clinic was filling most of your time and pa and I were home we had gotten very close. We had become more of buddies. He told me things and next year God took him away in that fatal accident. He loved you and I am sure he loves you still. But he never knew how to spill things to you so he started telling me about things that were dear to him. He used to say that as I am a father you must be thinking or might take me as a father who has never made mistakes or made bad decisions. But Jugal I am none of the above. I have had my share of blunders and wrong doing. I’m glad you are my son and I would like to assure you that only God is perfect. Humans are not perfect and are flawed and will always be so. He has given humans choices to make things better.’

‘Jugal, hope all good?’ interjected Suketa.

‘Please Ma just listen.’ nodded Jugal. 

Suketa nodded and okayed. 

‘Ma, thanks. He shared a photo one fine evening when you had left for the clinic and told me that I need to have a sister from a different mother and treat her as my own. But this was before he got married to you so nothing was shared. Preeti is to be my sister for life. Pa had asked me to take care of her if anything ever happened to him. He loved Aunty Shikha and old souls in your era never could go against their parent’s wishes. Shikha aunty neither Papa crossed the line. Preeti is the daughter of her dead army officer husband. She wrote to pa stating that she is in the last stage of cancer and he should adopt her and justify their unsaid love but before he could do that he left us forever. He wanted to tell you himself but it seems it was destined to be the way it is now.’ Jugal stopped when he saw his mother crying. 

Suketa gathered herself within minutes and continued to listen.

‘On purpose I found a job in the same area so I could see her everyday and be aware of her well being. Slowly I wish and plan to fulfill my father’s wish but I need your help for that. Coming home late after work was just to ensure that things around her and aunty are fine. I never wanted to bother you as patients unknowingly occupy the minds of doctors who are their center of attention. Today was totally fluke. My car stopped midway and out of courtesy she offered help. She prefers girls over boys so it’s gonna be a tough road ahead for all of us if we let her in.’ trembled Jugal.

Suketa for a full one minute looked at Jugal who was 25 years old now. She got up to drink water and poured the leftover coffee in her mug after heating it. She stroked his hair and told him to join whenever Preeti drops by for their clay modelling escapade even if it meant that he has to come early from office for that. Jugal smiled at that and hugged her mother in a reassuring way. When did Jugal grow up into the man he had become she just couldn’t stop pondering while drooling at her departed husband’s photo that was hanging on the wall and left to the clinic humming eventually.