[Sequel of Warm Love, hence can't be read as a standalone.]
In the first phase, Reyansh concealed a web of mysteries, but as they stand face to face once more, it's Kiraz who holds the tantalizing secrets waiting to be unveiled. These hidden truths...
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Fortunate are those, who have a mother.
Maa, Mumma, Ammi.
The strongest of the women, carrying love as her fragrance, warmth on her lap, happiness in her palm. Holding us as the most beautiful human ever existing on the planet. Holding the thread of us in her hands, the same which had sewed our torn clothes. And maybe our broken hearts, our fallen confidence, and even our happiness.
Care reflecting in her harsh voice, hurt flashing in her eye which once had shine with anger, for raising her rough palm on us. The hands which cups our face, holding lines of cuts, holding lines of pain, but can she ever feel pain for herself. If only she gets time from worrying about us.
Mother. The warmth of our house, the voice of our house. The sound of her bangles, a lullaby saying how we are safe.
I poked my fingers on Veer's back, as he was facing away from me. Lying on the bed. I sat on the floor, trying to process what went wrong with my child, that he has went from being gleeful child to the one being quiet down.
"Veer what happened baby? Talk to Mumma." I whisper once again. Once again remembered by my own mother's memories. How she used to call me when I was upset over some matter. How badly I wanted to rest my head on her copious blossom, narrate everything that had pent in my heart. And strangely, every inch of the second I was getting reminded on the fact that how badly I had hurt them.
"Veer, until and unless you tell your Mumma what is troubling you how is she going to help you. You need to speak, meri jaan." I repeat the same line however, it was futile. He remained adamant in acting of sleeping. I sigh getting up, keeping the pillow on the bed, which was placed on my lap. I seat on the bed, squatting closer to him, as I snake my arms around his waist. Slowly, tentatively I began pulling him closer.
"Baby, what happened?"
"Nothing," he mumbles, his muscles tense with defiance.
With an exhausted sigh, with a gentle yet firm tug, I pulled him onto my chest, cradling him in my arms. His eyes flickered open, with a muffled protest he resisted. But I tighten my arms around him.
"You don't get to fight with your Mumma." I say with a chuckle enunciating in my throat, tightening my arms against him.
He remained silent. But when I start patting his head, his stiff muscles starts relaxing, starting to nestling against me, "Now, tell me what happened?"
"Nothing,"
"Really?" I kept moving my fingers through his hairs.
"Mumma," he speaks after few minutes.
"Yes," I look down at him, as he lifts his head. The doe eyes staring at me. I kiss his nose, "What baby?"
However, his eyes glistening with uncertainty, he shakes his head, "Nothing," again nestling his head in my neck.
