When Roots are Forgotten-A Short Story

Title: When Roots are Forgotten

In a small town in India, Mr. and Mrs. Sharma lived a life of struggle but pride. A humble school teacher and a homemaker, they had one dream—to give their sons, Rajat and Rohan, the life they themselves never had.

Years went by, and the couple worked tirelessly, sacrificing comfort and personal desires to send both boys to the United States for higher education. Loans were taken, gold was sold, and dreams were deferred.

Mrs. Sharma: "One day, Rajat will become a big engineer, and Rohan too. We'll live to see their success and maybe spend our old age with them in peace."

Mr. Sharma (smiling): "Yes. That’s all I want now. To see them happy."

Time flew. Rajat and Rohan settled in America, got high-paying jobs, and eventually married women who were software engineers like themselves. Initially, everything seemed fine. They called often, sent money, and even invited their parents to the US.

The Sharmas were overjoyed. Life in America was dazzling—but beneath the surface, things began to change.

Rajat’s wife (whispering): "Your parents are always in the kitchen or watching TV. It’s awkward. We never get time to ourselves."

Rohan (reluctantly): "Yeah… maybe it’s time they think about going back to India. It’s not healthy for them here, either. The climate, the food, everything’s different."

Soon, the atmosphere grew cold. The parents, sensing the discomfort, decided to return to India.

Mr. Sharma (quietly to his wife): "We won’t trouble them anymore. Let them live their life."

Back home, things were lonely. The house that once echoed with dreams now sat in silence. Years passed. Mr. Sharma fell ill. The disease lingered, eating away his strength. The sons were informed. They said they’d come. They never did.

When he passed away, it was the neighbors who carried his body, lit the pyre, and stood beside the grieving widow.

Neighbor (on a phone call): "Please, at least for your father's last rites, come home."

Rajat (hurriedly): "We just can't leave work now. It’s year-end. Maybe we can do something remotely?"

Neighbor: "Remotely? He's your father!"

No one came.

Mrs. Sharma stood alone by the ashes of the man she had lived with for fifty years. Her heart was heavy—not just with grief, but with betrayal.

The neighbors did what sons were meant to do.

Moral:
When love becomes transactional and duty is weighed against convenience, even the strongest filial bonds can collapse. Parents plant the seeds of their children’s success with sacrifice, but when those children forget their roots for material gain, they lose something wealth cannot replace: humanity.