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There was a cactus plant in Charulata’s courtyard. On 25th December she saw an orange flower on it. This plant was planted by her son Jishu. His birthday was on 25th December. Charulata named him Jishu, after Jesus. Jishu was a beautiful gift from God. He was not only Charulata’s ‘sun and moon’, but her entire universe! Jishu’s father was a very busy businessman. At home Jishu kept himself busy - watching TV and reading newspapers, especially political news.
Jishu was a calm and attractive child. He was loved by all. When he started school, all day Charulata eagerly awaited his return. She kept sweets and snacks ready – Rasogulla and sandesh (Bengali sweets) and other food good for his health. She taught him Bengali songs composed by Rabindranath Tagore, a famous poet and composer. When mother and son sang together they created immortal music. As Jishu grew older he started writing poems inspired by nature and his mother. He used to say, “God is truly great, He has made such a beautiful world and given me a mother like you!”
Jishu wanted to be a computer engineer. With this goal, he started attending college. After coming back from college, Jishu and his mother used to sit together with evening snacks and tea. During this time Jishu talked about his college friends. Charulata used to take a lot of interest in those anecdotes. Once Jishu went for a picnic and he brought a turquise blue bangle for his mother. Charulata was so excited that she showed the bangle to each of her friends.
One day when Jishu came from his college he told his mother that he had got a scholarship and he would like to go to the USA for higher studies. Charulata was very sad but seeing her son’s excitement, she immersed herself in his joy. Jishu started making arrangements for his passport and visa.
It was around the time of the first monsoon showers. Returning home from college, Jishu asked his mother to make pakoras (a dry snack) along with tea. Jishu looked forward with a feeling of pleasure to the snacks and gossip with his mother.
Outside there was a gale blowing. There was tremendous lightening in the sky. It was as if, Mother Nature was wielding swords of lightening swords. Jishu was leaning on the railing. Suddenly lightening struck. There was a scream and then complete silence.
Charulata was shocked and panic gripped her. The plate full of onion pakoras crashed down. She rushed towards the balcony. Astonished and panic-stricken, she did not find Jishu in the balcony. Mad with fear, she looked for him throughout the house. Suddenly she heard cries of horror coming from the ground floor. She looked down from the balcony. Jishu was lying face down surrounded by a crowd of shocked neighbours.
With panic, fear but also hope, she ran down. She found him unconscious and still. Charulata took Jishu in her lap. She called out his name again and again but received no response. Jishu was dead. Her world was ruined. Her life was meaningless now.
Charulata often makes onion pakoras towards the evening and holds the plate in front of a portrait of Jishu. She imagines Jishu will come out of the picture frame, eat his favourite snacks and they will chat once again.
When Charulata saw the orange cactus flower this morning, she felt as if her son has come to meet her. The cactus plant had been planted by Jishu on his birthday. However, soon she realized that after a few days the flower would fall and merge with the dust. Just the way Jishu did. The scene of her son’s death frequently haunts Charulata. It has left an indelible scar in her mind and heart.
One day, a neighbour brought Charulata to my house. I communicated with her through my alphabet board and told her how happy I was to meet her. Charulata asked me, “When is your birthday?” I replied, “15th December”. She gave a smile. She said, “My Jishu’s birthday was also in December, 25th of December”. I introduced myself, “My name is Shradha Khator. I like to ‘write’ short stories but unfortunately I cannot write with my own hands. Will you be my writer?” I wondered if she would agree to help me. After a few seconds she said, “Yes”. Now, when I want to write a story I call her and she comes over. She chats with me and is very happy to be with me. Sometimes, she even sings Rabindra Sangeet on my request. I feel very glad and happy when I see her smile.
I use a wheelchair and I cannot go the temple. However, when Charulata smiles in my company, I feel I have worshipped God. It is as if I have offered a flower at God’s feet. It is very beautiful to see someone smile. It is even more beautiful to be the reason behind that smile.
Shradha Khator
Shradha Khator, 32 years, uses an alphabet board. Her facilitators, all familiar communication partners write for her. As each sentence is composed, the partner reads it out to her. She attends the services of IICP’s Adult Day Centre.
 Shradha Khator.JPG)