FLICKERS OF CONNECTION
The sterile light of Mohan's phone calendar cast a harsh glow on his worried brow. Raksha Bandhan loomed, a glaring reminder of fractured bonds. He tapped in a meeting slot for his sister, Nanda. A wave of sadness washed over him, threatening to spill into tears.
Memories flickered – carefree childhood days spent with his siblings in their rambling ancestral home. They were an inseparable unit, Mohan, his three brothers, and Nanda, the jewel in their crown. How had they become so distant, their laughter replaced by an awkward silence?
Life, he supposed. Marriage, careers, children – each had carved their own paths, slowly eroding the foundation of their closeness. He missed his brothers, their easy camaraderie, the way they could finish each other's sentences. Now, conversations were stilted, peppered with forced updates and veiled inquiries about his financial success.
Mohan winced. Could his role as the ever-reliable provider be the very thing driving them apart? He'd always been the one they turned to, the responsible eldest brother who shouldered their burdens, a constant source of support. But now, the support transformed into whispers of unmet expectations and a newfound entitlement. Had his success fostered a dependence that now fueled resentment?
He thought back to those simpler times. Helping his middle brother repair his motorcycle, sharing in his joy of a hard-earned fix, had been a reward in itself. Now, that joy seemed to have been replaced by a restless dissatisfaction, a desire for instant gratification Mohan's wealth enabled too easily. There was a time where they had taken pride in fixing up an old motorbike, the sense of accomplishment shining brighter than any new, expensive toy. Had the steady drip, drip, drip of Mohan's rising fortunes eroded their simpler values, replacing them with a hunger for things, rather than moments?
He felt a pang of self-pity, a bitter realization of how alone he truly was despite being surrounded by family. His own marriage, a loveless union, mirrored the fractured bonds with his siblings. He'd tried to salvage it, his forgiving nature a constant battle against his wife's indifference.
Suddenly, a different memory surfaced. A time when his youngest brother, always the prankster, had taken a fall while they were playing cricket. Mohan, the eldest, had rushed him to the hospital, fear knotting his stomach. Their parents, overwhelmed, had clung to him for support. It was Mohan who held the family together that day.
A spark ignited within him. Perhaps he'd been so focused on the distance that he'd failed to see the threads that still bound them. Maybe their support wasn't always vocal, but it was there, in the quiet ways, in the unspoken understanding. He, the quiet pillar of strength, had been too quick to feel abandoned.
The tears in his eyes receded, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Raksha Bandhan wouldn't be just a formality this year. It would be a chance to mend, to reconnect, to remind them all of the love that still simmered beneath the surface. He wouldn't let distance or misunderstandings sever the ties that bound them. After all, a loving family, even a flawed one, was a treasure worth holding onto.
