Rajamma lived her entire life in vain, unaware during her
childhood that misery would be her constant companion. At 42, when news of her
husband's death arrived, it shattered her to the core. He was a hard worker,
the dedicated leader of their family, and committed to keeping them away from
poverty's grasp. Upon his demise, all these responsibilities fell onto Rajamma.
She proved to be as tough as her husband, rising to her feet and carrying the
load on her shoulders. Her only child, a son, became her focus. She toiled day
and night to provide him with everything and shield him from feeling deprived.
She ensured he received a quality education in prestigious
schools and colleges. He matured into an intelligent young man and eventually
settled in the USA after marriage.
"Son, you must return here. This is our home, our
roots. Any endeavour you undertake should be here. Our forefathers lived and
died on this land. We cannot abandon our ancestral home. You have to come
back," she implored.
"But Mom, there's little I can achieve in that
superficial country. My life thrives here, in this nation," was his
unwavering response.
One day, as she descended the stairs, Rajamma collapsed,
briefly experiencing a fainting spell. Neighbours rushed to her aid and rushed
her to a nearby hospital. The news reached her son, who promptly contacted the
examining doctor.
"Sir, she's terminally ill. She has no more than three
years left," stated the doctor.
"I need to go," her son told his wife.
"Why?" questioned his wife. "Whether you're
there or not, her time is limited. Shouldn't we simply look forward to her
funeral?" she suggested.
He sat in contemplation.
"I have an idea," his wife proposed.
"Remember the startup we've always dreamed of launching here, but lacked
the funds to initiate? Let's sell your ancestral property in India. With our
modest savings and the proceeds from the property sale, we could easily
kickstart our own business. Of course, this only happens when your mother
passes, sooner rather than later," she added.
The son phoned the doctor. "I have a proposition,"
he began. "If you can expedite my mother's passing, I'll offer a
significant sum of money."
The doctor pondered and eventually agreed.
"What value does the life of an octogenarian hold? I
have a large, young family to care for," mused the doctor.
The son contacted his mother. "Mom, I'm fulfilling your
wish to return to India, with the intention of settling there permanently. The
only condition is for you to transfer all the family property into my
name," he fibbed.
"Absolutely, my son, absolutely. Right away," his
mother cried with joy. "What could be more precious than your return to
India and establishing roots here?"
She legally transferred all the documents to her son the day
after he arrived.
"Rajamma, there's a strong chance of curing your
illness," the doctor informed her during a routine checkup. "But you
need to undergo surgery."
Her face lit up with joy.
On the day of the operation, lying on the surgical bed just
before the procedure, the doctor explained that he would administer anaesthesia to her,
inducing temporary unconsciousness. Rajamma turned to the doctor and said,
"Doctor, today I am happier than I've ever been. My son has returned from
the USA and is going to reside permanently in India. My only wish has come
true. So, doctor, if by any remote chance, I were to pass away right now, I
wouldn't die in vain, but with contentment in my heart," she expressed
with overwhelming happiness.
The doctor cast an insidious grin and injected a lethal
substance into her, as previously planned.
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