People Die but Love Remains

People Die but Love Remains

It all started with my eighteenth birthday, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU…HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NATASHA…. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU.” The room echoed with the sound of cheers, joy, and this amazing birthday song my friends sang for me. The party went well and it was around ten at night. I was preparing myself for bed but before going to sleep I was curious about the gifts I received this time. Inquisitively, I started unboxing the gifts, and unexpectedly I heard a knock at my room door, to my surprise it was none other than Mrs. Smita. She was an elegant lady with grey hair, dressed nicely in a floral printed saree. She asked me if she could come and talk to me for a while and I welcomed her. We both comfortably sat on the couch. As the chit-chat started, I told her that I was angry with her because I have received lots of presents this year but still that one present was missing which I was hoping for from her. She chuckled and said that she will be giving me anything which I will ask but before that she has to give me something important. She showed me a small decorated wooden box that had patterns on it. On seeing the box, I told Mrs.Smita about the least interest that I have in vintage items because that box resembled one of those vintage items that we see in an antique shop. She smiled and told me that this box wasn’t for me.There was a letter with the box which stated that I was the one who was supposed to deliver this box to a lady named Kamala Nair. The letter also stated the address of the lady. To my astonishment, I asked Mrs. Smita where she found this letter, she told me that seventeen years back when they rescued me from the hospital and bought me to this orphanage, they also received some parcels and this letter and box were part of that parcel. The letter stated that whoever will rescue this girl will give her this letter and box only on her eighteenth birthday. I sighed and told Mrs. Smita not to remind me about the past because I really hate my past, on top of that I was also extremely angry with my biological parents even though I don’t know who they are but the reason I hate them is that they gave me birth to throw me like that into some orphanage. On listening to this Mrs, Smita consoled me and said that there was nothing to hate them for, the team is still trying to find them and apart from that, I must focus on a positive point, how much everybody loves me in this orphanage and together we are a family. She also reassured me that the search for my parents was going well and I must leave for Kerala the next morning to deliver the box to the lady who lives in Kerala. I agreed to it and left for Kerala the next morning. It took me around two days to reach the place as I was by train. (I know you all might be thinking why I took the train instead of the plane and wasted my two days traveling. Well to your surprise it was the year 1962). Unlike my past the journey was fantabulous. On reaching the Punalur station in Kerala I realized that I will be facing a communication barrier there. I went to a cab and asked the guy if he could drop me near the Rudra green apartments but as I was talking in Hindi, it was difficult for that guy to understand me, I even asked him whether he knew English or not but my dismay, he didn’t know any other language except for the regional one. After hustling for a long I finally found a cab driver who was pretty fluent in English. He dropped me near the apartment. I went to the guard and asked if he could tell me the flat number of Mrs. Kamala Nair. He said that she lives in flat number twenty on the fifth floor. On hearing this, I rushed upwards but there was a lock at the door of her flat. This broke me completely and I quietly came down and sat on the bench near the apartment. I sat there hopelessly for a long time thinking that I don’t have enough time to waste here as I also have to find my biological parents. All these thoughts were confusing me and I decided to leave for Delhi and that was when some kind words flew into my ear. When I looked up, I saw an old lady. She asked me whether I was fine or not. I told her that I was there to meet a lady named, Kamala Nair. On hearing the name, she chuckled and said I am only Kamala Nair. When I looked at her carefully, she looked like she was around 92 years old, she welcomed me inside her flat and asked me to sit on the couch in the living area. I patiently sat down and she went inside the kitchen with her servant to bring some snacks for me. While she was inside, I was super curious and took a look around her house as it was beautifully decorated. There were a lot of photo frames on the wall and to my curiosity I took a look at one of the photo frames closely. In the photo, there was a young boy around the age of twenty wearing some formal dress and standing in front of a ship, he looked like one of those navy men. Then in the next photo, there was this same boy but with a girl in a wedding dress. After watching all of this I quietly sat down on the couch and the woman came in along with her servant holding a salver full of chocolates. She sat near me. I gave her the box, and as she opened it there was a letter inside. She read it aloud “Dear ma, I your daughter-in- law writing this letter to you and I want to tell you that whosoever girl will give you this letter will be your granddaughter. I know you are worried about me and your son because it has been years since you have heard about us. So, I want to tell you that by the time you will read this letter Dhruv your son and I would no longer be alive. I would want to take you back in time. Eighteen years back when the world war was about to end all the navy captains and army men were sent by ship for the last battle of World War two but I never realized that it would be the last battle for Dhruv also. He never came back and what came back was his wedding ring stained in blood. You clearly know how much I loved him and this shock deteriorated my health, that was when I wrote this letter because I didn’t want my 1-year-old daughter now maybe eighteen to ever feel that she never had a lovely family. I want to tell her that she should be proud of her dad and she must also remember that she is the only symbol of our love left because people die but love remains. I want my brave girl to live her life happily so with this box I am sending Dhruv and my wedding ring. I want her to wear them in both of her hands so that she could feel that we and our love are always with her. Along with the rings, there is also a photo that was taken when she was born and her dad held her for the first time. Lots of love to you beta, we are proud of you.” On hearing this my breath just skipped a beat, all the hatred I had for my parents flushed away. I looked at the photo frame and asked my grandmother if the boy in the photo was my father. She smiled and confirmed with me. We both bursts into tears, hugged each other tightly and lived happily. One more thing I want to tell you guys is that I am still wearing those rings.