As the Tricolour flutters high across India today, my heart is filled with memories of a day etched deep in my soul. Twenty years ago, on this very day, life reminded me of its unpredictability, its fragility, and the immense value of a mother’s love.

That morning began like any other Republic Day celebration. I went to the main branch of Jamshedpur to participate in the unfurling of the national flag, accompanied by my young son, Judhajit. The air was alive with patriotism, pride, and the vibrant hues of our national flag. Little did I know that this day, which began with the celebration of our nation’s resilience, would soon test my own.

When we returned home, my wife, Jagrata, greeted us with unsettling news. My mother, while having breakfast, had struggled to swallow. Panic set in as I rushed out in search of a doctor, only to face the daunting challenge of a holiday, where most doctors seemed unreachable. After a desperate and lengthy search, I finally managed to bring a doctor home. He prescribed medication and advised close monitoring.

The rest of the day unfolded like a nightmare. My mother began to experience multiple episodes of discomfort, needing frequent trips to the restroom, and we shifted her bed closer to make things easier for her. Her strength seemed to ebb with each passing hour. By the afternoon, when we offered her tea, she was too weak to sit up. I fed her with a spoon, but the sight of my strong, loving mother in such a fragile state was unbearable.

With a growing sense of unease, I called some colleagues who were picnicking nearby in Dalma. Their immediate response and kindness still warm my heart. I called for an ambulance, and soon we were on our way to Tata Memorial Hospital. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Judhajit stayed back with a neighbour as Jagrata and I followed the ambulance, our hearts heavy with fear and hope intertwined.

The events that unfolded at the hospital are etched in my memory forever. The doctors’ urgent tone, the rush to the emergency room. I vividly recall the moment I was asked to deposit ₹5000—a small sum, yet a heavy burden for a heart already weighed down by worry. As I handed over the money, a colleague came rushing to me, telling me it was no longer needed. My heart sank as I feared the inevitable.

My mother had passed away.

That moment remains one of the darkest of my life. The woman who had nurtured me, loved me unconditionally, and been my constant anchor was gone. Seeing Jagrata weep uncontrollably beside her lifeless form shattered whatever composure I had left.

The night was weighed down with grief, and we had no choice but to leave her at the hospital morgue, as cremations were not conducted in Jamshedpur after sundown. The following day unfolded in a haze of rituals, arrangements, and tearful farewells. My colleagues, with their unwavering compassion and support, took charge of every detail—from organizing the cremation to managing the influx of mourners. The cash van from the currency chest branch, which I had headed before moving to the main branch, was graciously provided for logistics and support. Their thoughtfulness and solidarity during that harrowing time are etched in my heart forever.

At the cremation ground, an overwhelming crowd gathered—not just family and friends, but also colleagues from all the branches of my bank. Despite it being a working day, only a skeleton staff remained behind to keep the branches operational. The rest had come to stand by my side, offering heartfelt condolences and steadfast support in my hour of need. Their presence was a powerful testament to the bonds we shared, and their kindness continues to be a source of deep comfort and gratitude.

Even today, I miss my mother’s warmth, her gentle guidance, and the love that shaped my life. It feels as though it happened only yesterday. Her absence leaves a void that nothing can fill, yet her memories are a source of strength and comfort.

On Republic Day, as I remember her, I am filled with gratitude for the values she instilled in me, the sacrifices she made, and the love she showered upon us. Losing her was a stark reminder of life’s transience, but it also taught me to cherish every moment with loved ones.

Ma, your love continues to guide me, and your memories are a treasure I hold close to my heart. You may have left this world, but you will forever live in the stories we share, the lessons you taught, and the love you gave us.

Rest in peace in Vaikuntha Dhaam, Ma. Your love and memories remain etched in my heart. You are deeply missed and forever cherished. 🙏❤️