Vision of Mother

He was jittering and shaking, sitting in a wheelchair on the outer threshold of the hospital exit. He was getting discharged, even though his condition had not improved much, during his few days stay in the hospital. For the first time in a long time, he felt pretty vulnerable, both physically and mentally. His will had shattered into million pieces, and he had no strength to gather them whole. Doctors said his physical problems would disappear with time, and he was stable. However, the mental turmoil was the elephant in the room amongst the many issues he had faced in the last few months. Hence at the exit gate, all he could think about was his physical suffering and how he was leaving this place of healing in the same condition he had entered. He saw no improvement. The hospital stay and the treatments may have helped him mildly in his physical distress, but he had become more restless and anxious in the last few days. All he wanted was solace and sleep, which was hard to reach.

He had seen a lot of hardship in life, and usually, during those moments, especially in the last two years, he would cling to the memories of his beloved mother. She had been the source of his strength and purpose when she was alive, but even when she was gone, he would hold on to her to find balance in his empty life, move ahead, and try and make her proud. He would find the remnant of this mother in nature, in the embrace of friendly animals, in the warmth of sunlight, in the healing touch of rain, in the smile of budding flowers, the soft touch of morning dew, in the pink hues of dusk, in those rare sights of a rainbow, or golden rain during sunny days. Anything and everything material she had left behind was an inspiration to gather courage and look forward in life. However, at that moment, his mind failed to reminisce any positive thoughts that could drive him and wake him up from his weak, drowsy state. It’s like his physical suffering was beyond comprehension, that his body had gone numb, but his mind raced and paced like a wild horse, his heartbeats palpitating with the speed of a bullet train and his thoughts dark, beyond the reach of light.

It had rained that evening; the air felt cold and heavy, a thick fog covered the exteriors of the hospital premise, and the whole atmosphere was wet and smoggy; slight drizzle riding the back of the icy cold wind was slapping his droopy face. Right in front of him, the fog seemed to have lifted for a brief moment, and he saw a figure a few feet away from him. The effigy of an older woman dressed in a dark grey robe from head to toe was sitting on one of the outside benches, and she stared at her and looked back at him with a calm posture. The outdoor lamp post, bright yellow, flickered a bit as if casting a more brilliant light on the image, her body radiating with a glowing aura as she placed a serene smile on her face looking back at him. Almost jolted from his slumber, the mysterious woman looked like his mother, physically present, sitting right in front of him, smiling at him with all the love and calmness of this world. But how was this possible? Was she real? Was she his mom? It can’t be, as she no more exists in the physical plane. Was he hallucinating under the effects of his anti-anxiety and depression pills? Or was this real? A visit from this mother, manifesting in flesh and bone. The woman continued to stare at him with the most serene smile, and her vision felt like a healing embrace to his tormented mind. He wanted to get up from his chair, to talk to the strange woman, to tell her maybe she looked like his dead mother, smiled-like, her and she would perhaps respond with a loving hug, but he could not move; the distance between him and her was this energy field of madness and solitude. His sister broke his ghostly vision when she arrived with a cab right before him, thus cutting his field of vision. He asked her if she saw the lady sitting right before him and tried to validate if she looked like their mother; his sister peered through the cab’s windshield, but the bench was empty; there was no soul.

When he entered the cab to go back home, he was still in a state of shock; as the cold breeze hit his face, warm tears rolled down his eyes, sliding from his cheeks, while the drizzle still hit his face, awakening his state of consciousness. He broke down into sobs, but the tears were of Joy, and he uttered, “Thank you, Universe; I always bragged about your powers but never experienced it myself; today, I felt it! You sent her to me when I needed the most.” While his sister comforted him, a big smile on his face, his eyes more agile in excitement, his whole body stuttering but with a joyful rush, he had woken up from his slumber. As he remembered, within those small walls of hospital chambers, with all his might, he had invoked his mother’s strength and had requested her to come for him as he needed her. A new mystical energy rushed in his veins, and he knew he had found his lost courage—a vision of Mother giving him much-needed strength, solace, and spiritual awakening.

Vision of Mother is based on the true experience and is dedicated to my sweetest, dearest, most wonderful Mommy. My everything! on the ocassion of Mother’s Day. I love you forever mommy!

Parenting silhouette of mother and child in doorway


  1. This is an exceptional telling of your story. Beautifully written, creating scenes and palpable emotions drawn in such visual imagery. It is open, riveting, and some of your best writing ever. A wonderful ode to your loving mother, my friend. Bravo! 🙏

    Liked by 2 people

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