As 67-year old Raguram has suddenly awaken during the early hours of the morning, lying on the cot he took his glasses which is on the nearby table and weared it. The room was dimly light with a zero watts bulb. He turned his head to see what the clock reads.
It read 3:55.A.M.
His heart started to beat faster from the moment he woke up. Something alarmed him inside, he had closed his eyes, memories are started to flash in his mind…
The day he lost in the crowd of the temple festival held in his village at the age of 4 and found again to see the mixture of joy and tears in his mother’s eyes and not knowing the reason for that,
The first day of school at the age of 5, when he was forced to go to school with his father accompanying him,
Days he has spent with his only sister playing under the tree nearby the lake in their village and fighting for nothing,
The day he learned how to ride the bicycle, the race between his friends and also trying to attract the girls of his village by showing off his riding skills,
the day he found his better half in his PUC, confesseed and a fight with both their home to get married,
The first salary of Rs.85 he got and holding the single rupee of it still now (takes that old one rupee in his hand and feels it),
The first touch of his son with his so little finger, when he was born,
The day he started his own business firm and tasted the success,
The day he cried silently, when his son joined in the college and left him for the first time,
The day he become a child again, on the sight of his grandchild,
and the day he left his son and returned back to his own village along with his wife to spend the rest of his life…
Everything seemed to dissolve from his memory.. and he wanted to say the words he always says to his son for one more last time, “Take care”. He took his mobile from the table, found his son’s number and dialled it. As the mobile started to ring, his heartbeat skipped permanently with his eyes stared at the clock,
which now read 4.A.M