The train journey was bathed in warm afternoon sunlight, casting a golden hue on the worn-out seats. Across from me, my wife held our sleeping son in her arms, her calm expression a stark contrast to my restless mind.

I couldn't help but wonder why we'd been summoned to my hometown for a family gathering. It had all been so sudden. Just days ago, my mother had assured me that everything was fine. So why the urgent call?

With the kids on summer break, it seemed unreasonable to decline the invitation. To my surprise, my wife readily agreed, eager to escape our fast-paced city life. It was strange because I'd always thought she wasn't fond of my side of the family.

What puzzled me even more was that my older brother had personally invited us. We were never particularly close, and our connection faded after I moved away for college. I wondered how my parents were managing without me, but my own family in the bustling city life demanded most of my attention, so that concern took a back seat conveniently.

The invitation seemed simple enough, merely suggesting spending summer break at my parents' place. However, I couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was more to it. Was my brother experiencing business troubles? Were my parents facing health issues because he need my assistance? The questions raced through my mind, clouding my thoughts.

As the train announced our stop, my wife's gentle tap on my shoulder brought me back to the present moment. We gathered our belongings and stepped off the train. My wife smiled at me as she went ahead with our son too excited to visit his grandparents.

The taxi ride to my parents&' house felt quick, just fifteen minutes. My heart raced as Mom greeted us with a joyful smile. My younger child ran to her, hugging her tightly, and their laughter filled the air. My brother and sister-in-law helped with our bags.

As I watched my wife fit right into my family's warm embrace, I still felt uneasy, like an outsider. But seeing the kids hesitantly become friends and play brought some comfort. My brother greeted me with a real smile. We spent the day catching up on life, with the ladies gone shopping. I hoped he'd bring up the reason for our gathering, but neither of us did.

Restless, I went into the garden. The sight of the old mango tree brought back memories. It had been our childhood sanctuary, witness to our adventures and secrets. Those moments felt distant now.

“Of course it is! Did you think I would let go of our childhood?” He said as he slapped my shoulder playfully, as I looked from the mango tree to my brother. How long has it been to see my brother laugh, I wondered.

“Wanna race up the tree?” My brother joked breaking the chain of my thoughts. “Dada you are in your 50s, there is no way you are going to win.” I laughed while the word “Dada” rolled off my tongue with emotions and familiarity, surprising myself. “Guess you might finally win, after ages of losing then.” He laughed again and I joined in without hesitation.

As the laughter filled the air, the burden of doubts and worries lifted from my shoulders. In the shade of the mango tree, we opened up to each other yet again, sharing our joys and struggles, and reconnecting as brothers once more.

The mango tree stood as a witness to the strength of our connection, a symbol of the enduring love that had withstood the test of time. As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over our reunion, I knew that the purpose behind our gathering was not rooted in ill intentions but rather a desire to rebuild the bridges that time and distance had eroded.

Our shared laughter, the echoes of our childhood, resounded through the garden. As we rested in the shade of the tree, the worries that I had were replaced by a deep sense of gratitude for the unexpected gift of reconnecting with my roots.

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