THAT RAINY NIGHT

Looking at her, I said,
“Ma, if my visits bring you comfort, I will certainly come. Please consider me your son.”
Kalavati Ma’s eyes welled up with tears. Placing her hand on my head, she said,
“That is all I need, son.”
Shyam was watching all this in silence. That night, a new bond seemed to be forming between us—one that had begun with the rain but was built upon a foundation of genuine affection and humanity.
After that rainy night, the relationship between Kalavati Ma and me began to evolve. Initially, I viewed her merely as Shyam’s mother, but her warmth fostered such a sense of belonging that I began to feel a mother-son bond with her myself.
One day, when I visited her home, she smiled and said,
“You’re here, son?”
I replied with a smile,
“Yes, Ma. How are you feeling?”
She gazed at me for a few moments, then said,
“I don’t know why, but it warms my heart when you call me ‘Ma’.”
I sat beside her, took her hand in mine, and said,
“Then, from this day on, you are not just Shyam’s mother—you are my mother too.”
Kalavati Ma’s eyes filled with tears again. She placed her hand on my head and said,
“And to me, you are not just a son, Sagar; you are like a daughter. I don’t know why, but seeing you reminds me of my daughter-in-law, Vidya.”
From that day on, a unique closeness defined our relationship. I began helping her with small household chores—sometimes making tea, fetching her medicines, or simply sitting and talking with her for hours.
Kalavati Ma, too, began to open up and share her innermost thoughts with me. She would scold and counsel me just as she would her own children, and at times, she would affectionately stroke my head.
Gradually, I realized that I had found more than just the affection of Shyam’s mother in that house; I had found a mother whose love had eased the loneliness within me. And for Kalavati Ma, I was no longer just Sagar.
I was one of her own—a son whom she loved just as she would a daughter.
Whenever I visited Kalavati Ma’s home, she would affectionately give me Vidya’s clothes to wear. Clad in them, I would stay in the house and assist her with her daily chores.
Gradually, it became about more than just the clothes. Kalavati Ma began to shower me with the same affection she had for her daughter-in-law, Vidya, and I, in turn, began to share in the household tasks just as a daughter-in-law would.
I would wake up early to make her tea, clean the house, and help in the kitchen. If she needed anything, I would be by her side in an instant.
Sometimes, the sight of me would move Kalavati Ma deeply. She would say,
“Sagar, my son, when you move about the house in these clothes, it feels as though my daughter-in-law has returned to me for a little while.”
I would smile and reply,
“Ma, I cannot take your daughter-in-law’s place, but if my presence helps alleviate your loneliness even a little, it brings me joy.”
Stroking my head, Kalavati Ma would say,
“You are truly precious to me.”
In this way, a unique familial bond gradually formed between Kalavati Ma and me. To her, I was a son who was like a daughter, and to me, she was like a mother. My goal was to offer her a sense of belonging and to ease her loneliness.
Meanwhile, a change was slowly taking root in Shyam’s mind as well. Whenever he saw me tending to his mother while wearing Vidya’s clothes, old memories would stir within him. My voice, my stature, my face, and my mannerisms reminded him of his wife. Sometimes, he would stand at a distance and watch me, feeling for a fleeting moment as though his wife, Vidya, had truly returned home.
Yet, there was a conflict in his mind, too. He knew that I was Sagar. Yet, her emotions kept drawing her back to that same old relationship. Gradually, the images of Sagar and Vidya began to merge in Shyam's mind. To her, I was no longer just the neighbor, Sagar, who would occasionally visit her home; my presence had become a source of solace, anchoring the memories of her lost wife.