Soft music emerged from the ground floor, filling the duplex flat aesthetically with its melody. The guests had begun to arrive. Ravindran, seated in his room on the first floor, could hear 'Hi... Congrats, Rohan,' being said in different intonations. Ravindran's brother was celebrating his son's success in completing his Chartered Accountancy exams on the first attempt.

‘Why have you enrolled him in commerce? Engineering is the ultimate word today. I have decided to make Dinesh pursue coaching for IIT in the coming year.’ Ravindran had argued with his brother. 

‘Rohan wants to do Chartered Accountancy.’ Ravindran's brother replied briefly. He could see the acerbic twitch on Ravindran's lips and the nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, making his disapproval palpable.

Ravindran was quite audible, though he muttered, ‘Children should not be allowed to make such decisions. What do they know?’

A knock on the door jolted Ravindran from his reverie. "Are you not ready to come down?"

Ravindran chose not to answer his mother. He rested his head on his hands folded on the table. 

"Everyone is waiting for you to cut the cake. You can't run forever. What will the guests think? That you are jealous of your nephew's success."

Ravindran looked up at his septuagenarian mother. Her eyes pleaded with him to get ready and join the celebration.

He reluctantly washed his face and descended the stairs with heavy steps. 

When he looked at his wife standing amongst the guests and chatting, Ravindran wasn't sure whether he should marvel at how she mingled in the crowd with no emotions on her face or scold her for being an active participant there.

But then, what was her mistake? She stood by her son, praising him for his scriptwriting flair. As a mother, she left no stone unturned in her spade work to ensure that Dinesh graduates from a renowned school for scriptwriting. 

Ravindran fervently objected and thundered, ‘While people of his age group would be proud owners of big houses and extravagant cars, your son will move in a rusted bicycle. Not all scriptwriters make it big, but all engineers do.’

"Please bless me." Rohan touched Ravindran's feet, bringing him back to the present. "Goddess Saraswati already blesses you. May you reach the pinnacle of success." Ravindran hugged the boy, desperately trying to hide his desolation.

‘I don't want to pursue this course. I can never make it big in the field of engineering. I need help understanding the intricacies of the subjects in this coaching class. Appa, I am not made for IIT.’ Dinesh's voice was immersed in helpless sobs.

 It reverberated in Ravindran's ears now.

"Would you like some juice?" Ravindran's wife extended a glass towards him. Looking intensely at her, he realized that behind her smile was carefully camouflaged her excruciating pain.

They both looked up at the garlanded photo of Dinesh. He was smiling at them.

'If only I had allowed him to pursue the field of his choice!' An agonizing sigh escaped Ravindran's lips.

*****