Sorry

There are somethings that stay with you for a long time.

It was a picturesque day that brought pilgrims from everywhere to visit the sanctum sanctorium and seek the blessings of the Almighty.

I was there on along of my grandparents, doing a little grandson work for the pair of love birds. Who says love needs youth. They still held hands when they dipped their hands and legs in the river.
My hawk eyes were zoomed in on their heroics and they safely negotiated the water , the steps and then the safety of my temple.

It was my turn and they got to repeat all the words, instructions and warnings that I had just minutes before told them.

And then I treaded carefully along the steps. There was so much of activity everywhere, prayers being told , men dipping themselves in the holy water of the river , women too joining in the religious rituals, the bells of the temple going off in the distance and the faint fragrance of bhakthi that stayed in the air like a mist.

I happened to find a small spot alongside a family of four.They too were immersed in their acts of purification. The man of the family dipped himself into the river and came out unfazed.
The wife had the little one in her arms, the kid seemed absorbed with his own musings.

This is when it happened. The lady decided to spray the holy water onto her son and slipped.

The collective gasp of everyone standing was heard , the shouts of panic were heard everywhere. The lady was sinking into the river, but miraculously she kept her hands above the water and held the symbol of her motherhood high in the air, just high enough to keep the baby safe.

She gasped for air once , then went in again and bobbed her head twice; all the while desperately holding her kid in the air.

The man jumped into the river and grabbed the kid and reached the safety of the steps and handed over the kid to the grandmother.

He jumped again , this time he returned with her.
They ran to her kid and she hugged her child. He hugged her and the I could clearly hear her say.

"Sorry."

And then the grandma said something.

The man stepped in and said something that silenced the scene, they moved away content that God had saved them that day.

But that sorry had so many layers.
Her voice shook with so many emotions.

She blamed herself,
Her stupidity.
Her ability to forget her own life and keep her flesh and blood afloat.
Her husband's​ nerves of steel,
The faint gratitude that the family was still intact.
Then the realisation of the events that could have occured and the shudder of her shoulders.

It was all carried in that Sorry.