The Photograph

          One day, I was all alone in the house. My parents had taken my siblings off  to visit my grandparents. I had refused to go as there had been a quarrel and my parents had left the house, fuming with anger. I didn’t care. I didn’t get along with my grandparents. I felt like they never understood me. They just nag at everything I do or say. I just wanted to be left alone.
         
            There was blessed peace in the house but I felt a nagging guilt inside. I loved my grandparents. They would have been very disappointed that I hadn’t come. Why didn’t I go ? It was just stubbornness on my part.

             After a while, the phone rang with a message for my father. I went to a drawer to take out a piece of paper to write down the message. Later, when I went to close the drawer completely, I saw something stuck inside. I pulled it out. It was a photograph. I was clinging on to my mother and my father was hugging us both. My uncle had taken it when I was nine years old. I remembered the incident very well.

             I was playing outside my house. My mother was sweeping the porch. My father and uncle were inside the house. All at once, a pack of stray dogs came rushing at me. I screamed. My mother, on seeing what was happening, grabbed her broom and ran at me. I hugged her hard, screaming and crying. My mother shouted and waved her broom threateningly at the dogs. They backed away but refused to leave. They snarled. They were ready to jump at us at anytime. My mother was like a fierce guardian angel. She never let me go. Her eyes never left the dogs. She yelled at them. By that time, my father and uncle rushed out of the house. They shouted at the dogs and threw water at them. Looking confused, the dogs ran away.

               I clung to my mother, weeping hard. My mother hugged me back as tight as she could and my father embrace us both. I must have clung on for a long time, enough time for my uncle to take the photograph.

               I had a fever that night. My parents never seem to left my bedside. As I remembered, a wave of love rushed over me. I began to remember many other incidents where my parents had shown love and care towards me.

              I went to the refrigerator to get a drink. There I saw a plate of snacks for me. There was a note stuck to the refrigerator, informing me there was a hot meal in the microwave oven. I sat down. I realized that my parents were still thoughtful and worried about me despite everything.

              I went to the telephone and called my grandparents. My parents had not arrived yet. “ I’m taking the bus to your place. Grandpa,” I told him. “ I want to spend the time with my family. Tell my parents I will be there soon.”