A youthful curiosity flickered within Devang as his mother embarked on a pilgrimage to the temple. "Papa," he began, his voice laced with innocence, "a question has taken root in my mind. Jitumama visited recently, intent on selling Nanaji's house. You and Mummy, with a curious alacrity, signed the papers he presented, forgoing any inquiries."
A wry smile touched my lips. "Your question, son, holds merit. However, in the tapestry of life's relationships, trust at times weaves a more intricate pattern than love itself. To understand this, we must delve into the bygone days of your Jitumama."
I cast my mind back, traversing the terrain of memory. "When your mother, a mere wisp of a girl at ten summers, and Jitumama, a young man of eighteen, bore witness to the sudden demise of your Nana, the world as they knew it crumbled."
"Your mama, then in the throes of his collegiate pursuits, found his dreams shattered. The mantle of responsibility, a heavy weight upon youthful shoulders, descended upon him. He toiled tirelessly, from the halls of academia to the drudgery of the workplace, returning home each night weary and burdened, the clock striking a relentless nine."
Yet, his indomitable spirit propelled him forward. "He persevered, son, and emerged a graduate," a note of pride resonating in my voice.
"Meanwhile, your dear mother, blossoming into a maiden of fifteen, found herself the subject of Chunikaaka's machinations. This wily individual, brandishing a young man, a mere SSC pass holder employed as a factory machine operator, sought to orchestrate a hasty union."
The memory of that day still evoked a flicker of righteous anger. "Your mama, ever the stoic soul, listened with measured silence. However, when Chunikaaka, with a callous disregard for her future, suggested marriage as a means to alleviate a perceived burden, a fire ignited within him."
His voice, I recalled, "was a tempestuous torrent, laced with righteous indignation. 'Kaka,' he thundered, 'your concerns are misplaced. Since the passing of my father, not a single rupee has been requested from you. What audacious notion compels you to dispense such unsolicited advice?'"
Pausing for a moment, I continued, "He then summoned your mother, his voice softening as he addressed her. 'Smiti,' he declared, his gaze tender, 'you are not simply my sister, but a daughter bestowed upon me by fate itself after the loss of our father. Consider me your protector, your guide. You shall pursue your education as far as your aspirations soar, and your hand in marriage will be offered only with your consent. Henceforth, such pronouncements shall find no welcome within these walls.'"
"Your mother, overcome with a wave of gratitude," I explained, "found solace in Jitumama's unwavering devotion. He, the embodiment of selflessness, ensured her academic pursuits by procuring a reliable Kinetic scooter, a far cry from your Nanaji's aging Bajaj, to facilitate her daily commute to college."
"The seeds of her success as an IT engineer," I elaborated, "were sown during this period, and Jitumama's unwavering support played a pivotal role. Had he succumbed to societal pressures at the time, opting for a hasty marriage to an ill-suited match, the trajectory of your mother's life would have undoubtedly been altered."
Fate, however, had other plans. "Our paths crossed within the bustling confines of an IT company," I reminisced. "When your mother expressed her desire for our union, Jitumama, with meticulous diligence, delved into my background, ensuring my suitability. Only then did he bestow his blessings, entrusting his beloved sister to my care. The kanyadaan, a sacred act, was performed by your mama and mami, fulfilling their solemn vow."
"Did Jitumama," Devang queried, a hint of remorse coloring his voice, "never face financial or emotional hardships?"
"Son," I replied, my voice resonating with empathy, "such a soul, forged in the crucible of selflessness, is a rare gem. During a period of economic turmoil, the IT sector witnessed a downturn, and I, unfortunately, lost my employment. Your mama, ever the silent benefactor, ensured the continued payments for this very apartment for two months, a fact unbeknownst to your mother. Of course, upon regaining my footing, I promptly reimbursed him."
Devang's eyes welled up with newfound understanding. "Papa," he confessed, "I was but a naive observer. Such unwavering devotion, such a testament to familial love, is indeed a treasure found in a million."
A gentle smile graced my lips. "Indeed, son," I concurred. "The true essence of love lies not in mere pronounce
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