"Amma! Your son has sent a money order."
The postman stopped his bicycle on seeing Amma.
As Amma took off her glasses, cleaned them with the end of her saree and wore them back, there was suddenly a gleam in her old eyes.
She looked at the postman with hopeful eyes and said, "Son! I want to talk to my son first."
But the postman tried to avoid her request. "Amma! I don't have enough time to call your son every time. I can't make you talk to him every time."
The postman tried to show Amma how busy he was, but Amma kept insisting him to call her son first.
"Son! It will only take a few minutes."
"Amma, you should not insist me to call your son every time."
Saying this, the postman started dialing a number on his mobile before placing the money in Amma's hand.
"Here, talk to your son! But don't talk for long, the balance is very low in my account."
He handed over his mobile to Amma.
Taking his mobile phone from his hand, Amma started speaking to her son, asked about his well-being, and looked satisfied just within a minute of talking. A wide smile had appeared on her wrinkled face.
"Here's a one thousand rupees, Amma," the postman said, handing over ten hundred rupee notes to her.
While counting the money, Amma gestured for him to stay..
"What happened now, Amma?"
"Keep this hundred rupees, son!"
"But why Amma?" he asked with surprise.
"Besides delivering the money every month, you also call my son for me. Every time you must've spent some amount on the calls, isn’t it?"
"Oh no Amma! Please let it be."
He kept on refusing, but Amma forcefully put a hundred rupee note in his hand. He looked at her for a moment, and then turned to get back to his work.
Amma, who lived alone in her house, also went inside, blessing the postman all the while.
The postman had just moved ahead a few steps, when someone put a hand on his shoulder...he turned back and found someone he knew standing there.
He was surprised to see it was Rampravesh, who ran a mobile phone shop nearby.
"Brother, how come you are here? You should be in your shop at this time."
"I had come here to meet someone. But I want to ask you something." Rampravesh's eyes were fixed on the postman's face.
"Yes, go ahead brother," the postman said very calmly.
"Brother! Why do you do this every month?"
"What have I done, brother?"
"Every month, you give Amma money from your own pocket and you also give me money to talk to her on the phone as her son! What for?"
On this question, the postman let out a sigh and replied, "I don't give money to this old lady, I give it to my mother."
"I don't understand! She is not your mother."
The postman continued... "Her son had gone to another city to earn money and every month he used to send a money order of thousand rupees for his Amma. But one day, instead of the money order, a letter came for Amma - it was from her son's friend. Her son had lost his life due to the virus, the pandemic.
“I did not dare to give this sad news to Amma who waits every month for the money order and hopes for the well being of her son.
I lost my mother to corona last year. But every time I come here to deliver the money order, when I look at her, I feel the presence of my mother in her.
In my mind, I started considering her as my own Amma and every month I bring her a money order from my side."
The postman's eyes had welled up with tears.
But he did not wait for Rampravesh to reply... He took his bicycle and proceeded to distribute the mail.
Rampravesh was stunned to see the postman's true love and affection for Amma, a complete stranger.
Standing there, he just had one thought in mind : *if the feeling of Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam (the world is one family) is developed in all of us, then how beautiful this world would become!*
*"The two most important qualities that make us human are the ability to sympathize and empathize with others and the willingness to help them."*
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