Life that paralysed at the bloomed junction of an unbearable past and a prosperous future, which thrived in every new dream. Shoib was one of the few students chosen for further studies in U S. His caliber to resolve complicated problems of science was a good supplement to his resilience which he had gained through his laments of past.
Mr Kirmani was a well skilled craftsman, still in the process of setting his small empire on the fertile hills of kashmir. but before he could open his wings something tirant and non negotiable happens. What stormed Shoib into destitute but more mature thus more powerful being.
Though it deprived him of delicious dramas of his dreams but meanwhile helped him to grew into sound and well being,aware of the real colours of this drama.
Life wouldn’t had been more or less tormenting,it was made beautiful by the diverse bright and dark coloured,skilled brushes of time.
Those who believed in his capabilities,escaped his destituteness and left him all alone. Cancer had tightened its jaws. Tending to his dad was much easier than to give up his dreams. Proxy war of disease and hopes was leafing to nothing.
The capabilities that once made him frenzied started hurting him. The pain that flew in the room where his dad lay day and night was instilling something surprising in his mind. Life was revealing its realities. Man who once taught him fighting realities, was slowly giving up to pain.
His ecstasy over his dreams where ruined into oblivion. Hopes which he had strengthened every new time, faded in a wink of time. Shoib held his hand to drive it to his belly but it fell. The filament in the lamp glittered, but the brightness in his eyes has faded. He was not showing signs of life,his heart showed him dead. But there was some warmth in his hands. When he tried from his forehead,it was wet of sweat. He was probably alive.
‘Yah he was alive’,Shoib thought when he saw his mother trembling to floor. His younger sister was quiet young to understand the enormity of situation. She paused while her mother embraced floor but resumed playing after failing to understand the situation. Shoib was desperate to see someone around to assist him but all seemed desolated. His hand on dads chest sensed some beats and he got it. It was cardiac arrest probably major attack. He was timid but not that much to be frightened by the tyranny of diseases. Immediately he shifted his weight on his hand which was placed on his dads chest and started pumping.
Air in the room was falling short of oxygen. Vigour in the young blood of trembling hands kept supporting his hopes. He was strong to fight the plight alone. When Shoib bent down to blow air into his dads mouth. He saw his dads eyes were desperately looking for someone. The melody from the loud speaker of mosque did the miracle. Rush in blood vessels resumed again as the sound from suffocated lungs disturbed the serenity. Mr kirmani got up with a jilt and throbbing in his chest. Lungs started slowly but soon they were thumping hard against the chest wall. Then what happened next was expected. Room started teeming with people,both known and unknown. Shoib was frantic with worry while people kept reciting their stories.
He was mature to differentiate the belligerent face of nature from that romantic one, which we are taught of in our classrooms. Still he tried to appear casually calm. He had no money to fetch a doctor home. Not he had anything to pay for cab,to drive his father hospital. He thought of his property,some canals of land apart from his home,which seemed built sometime in past century and was never renewed. He started towards one of the land lords But stopped in perplexity,as he saw him coming towards theirs. He had no time to manipulate the things thus he came to the point,’i am selling my land..,will you like to have your hand on it…?’. Landlord sat in urgency and asked for papers. Shoib said ‘and money,i need it now..!”
Meanwhile his dad experienced another stroke as he felt back, with his eyes bulging out. Landlord arranged cab and accompanied them to hospital. And finally got the papers signed.
Painkiller lulled Mr kirmani to sleep. Shoib saw his mom slept on floor holding her child in her lap.
Shoib spent months in energising his hopes and tending to his father. Sufferings dragged them down,down on the earth. Dependence on pain killers was later turned to morphine. This way Pain consumed all the money Shoib got after selling his all belongings and drew the surroundings mad for him. It demanded more money and their ancestral home was the last thing he was left with.it was sold but finally it came foreword what was in natures pocket. The legacy, Mr kirmani had inherited couldn’t satisfy nature to let him live some more moments. He left his son alone to fend for himself and the family of 3 at the tender age of 17.
The hunger to see himself flourishing still shines in his eyes in reality he was defeated.
His adulation for nature was lost and lost for ever. then what happened if at that stage he lost his everything,he earned it back by the teachings of same ruthless past and certainly Mr kirmani will be proud of his son. But somethings break when we try to mend them.
What life will bring you is virtual and will be seen but what you saw is what is real. Even though it’s memories are harsh it could be didactic. It can make you what you want to be.
–END–
