The Ghost of Two Sons

 

The old man sat by the window of his crumbling house, his fingers tracing the rim of a chipped teacup. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the fragile windows, but inside, the real storm lay buried in the memories that haunted him.

Rishab, his younger son, was a source of endless frustration. Unlike the ambitious child he had imagined, Rishab had convinced himself that staying at home and helping with household chores was his way of being “responsible.” He folded laundry, fixed leaky faucets, and ran errands, all the while assuring his parents that he was doing his part.

But to the old man and his wife, this wasn’t enough. “You need to stand on your own feet,” the father had said countless times, his voice teetering between exasperation and hope. “Helping with chores isn’t a career. It’s not a life.”

Yet Rishab remained, his days a monotonous loop of half-hearted tasks and idle hours. His parents watched helplessly as the world outside moved forward, while their son remained stuck, refusing to leave the comfort of their home.

Ayaan, the elder son, was different. He had left early, determined to carve a life for himself in the city. He worked tirelessly, sending money home each month, believing he was fulfilling his duty from afar. But the old man knew Ayaan’s distance wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, too. The phone calls grew rare, the visits rarer still.

Then came the silences.

First, it was Ayaan—overworked and alone, his heart giving out in a tiny apartment far from home. The grief was overwhelming, but there was little time to process it before tragedy struck again. Rishab, the son who had stayed, refused to progress in his life, leaving behind nothing but a haunting void of expectations.

Now the house was quiet, except for the ghosts of two sons. Ayaan’s voice echoed faintly with burdens and worries of his responsibilities, while Rishab’s lingered, full of justifications for a life unlived. The old man sat alone, staring at the darkened room.

“All I wanted was for you to thrive,” he whispered to the shadows.

*****

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