Small Story 25.Great Gesture

Small Story 25.Great Gesture The heavy rain drummed against the windows, a relentless reminder of the world outside. Pankajam paced the living room, glancing at the clock. Swamy usually returned from the office by now, but the storm had likely delayed him. She couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at her. Eight kilometers away, Swamy sat in his office, his mind racing. His boss had asked him to stay longer to finish a project, but now, with the rain finally subsiding, he felt the weight of a different burden. As they drove through the slick streets, his boss casually inquired about his children. The question caught Swamy off guard. “I’m not blessed with children,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. The silence that followed felt heavy, and he could sense his boss’s regret. When Swamy finally arrived home, the tension in the air was palpable. Pankajam’s eyes searched his face, seeking the source of his distress. As he recounted the conversation, she felt a familiar pang of sorrow. They had made a choice long ago—a choice rooted in love and sacrifice. Twenty years had passed since they had given their son, Desikan, up for adoption to Swamy’s sister, who had longed for a child. “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?” Pankajam asked, her voice soft but insistent. Swamy sighed. “We gave him up with all our hearts. My sister needed him more than we did.” Pankajam nodded, understanding the depth of his loyalty. Swamy’s sister had supported him, helping him secure his current job as a public prosecutor. The promise he had made to keep their son’s existence a secret felt like a sacred vow, one they both honored, even in their moments of sadness. In the quiet of their home, Pankajam took Swamy’s hand. “We made the right choice, didn’t we?” she whispered. Swamy nodded, squeezing her hand. Though the rain had stopped outside, the storm of emotions lingered within. They shared a moment of silence, two souls bound by love, secrets, and the memory of a child they had given to another, hoping for a brighter future. K.Ragavan.