SEVERED TIES

SEVERED TIES – Short Story of Father and Son
Photo credit: earl53 from morguefile.com

He approached the big front door with its gigantic carvings. While he ascended the steps, his every move gave him a shiver that ran down his spine. The shuffling noise of the leaves beneath his shoes seemed to be warning him of the impending danger and asking him to leave the place at once.

The bungalow seemed to be haunted and completely ruined. The white building had developed patches of green and grey. Different climbers had tied up the building from each nook and corner. The grasses in the lawn had grown wild. The dried leaves were not cleared from the steps and the lawn. The bushes had not been trimmed.

He climbed up the steps and put his right hand against the big door. To his surprise, it opened with a loud creak. With his first step into the house, he found the room was dark. He had to wait for a few minutes so that his eyes could become habituated to the darkness all around. Now he could see that he was standing in the hall. There was only a table lamp lit in one of the corner of the room. There were a huge variety of furniture and decorative items, some even antiques, in the room. But most of them were now covered with white sheets of cloth. None of the windows were open. The curtains were drawn very carefully to prevent even a single ray of light from entering the house. At the centre of the hall was a staircase that led to the upper stories of the bungalow.

From a single panelled door at the back of the hall, came out a tall, stout man with bulging eyes and completely shaved head. The man startled at seeing a stranger inside the house. But suddenly with a twinkle of recognition, he started moving towards the young man holding out his right hand. The letter from the church had informed him that the young man would be arriving after so many years. He introduced himself as the butler of the house and also mentioned that he was the only servant in the house. The young man was pleased with the manners of the butler.

Coming to the first floor of the building he found the long corridor with rooms on both sides, the doors to which were closed. The corridor was long and seemed never-ending. There were some portraits hanging from the walls of the corridor. One particular portrait forced him to stand still and he kept looking at it. Some agonizing memories kept coming back in flashes. The good feeling that he had in him after meeting the butler suddenly evaporated and was replaced by a seething anger. The image of a lady, his mother, lying in a pool of blood struck his mind. The same lady was in the portrait right in front of him but here she wore a smile on her face. He was awakened from his reverie by the call of the butler. They started walking again and the butler led him to a room at the end of the corridor.

The room was as dark as the hall downstairs. This room was dimly illuminated by candles on an antique candle-stand. There was a huge bed on which lay a thin, frail man. As he moved near the bed, he recognized the old man. It was a shock to see this man in such a state. This man had once been a huge figure, and with the appearance of traits of insanity, had turned animal-like. When he had visited this house long ago, as a child, he had seen a horrifying picture of this man. His hair had grown long almost covering his face. He had been furious to see people around him. He had even tried to hurt the child by hurling a vase at him. But now the same man was so old and weak! His hair was cut short and it had turned white. His body seemed to have shrunk. Though the old man was sleeping but his mouth was open slightly and a groaning sound came out which filled the room. The atmosphere of the room was heavy.

He had always despised this man, his father. He not only blamed his father for his mother’s death, but also doubted him as the murderer. When his father had suddenly sent him away to study in the ecclesiastical school where he stayed in boarding, his suspicion had turned to certainty. The young man did not remember much of his childhood, the memories had faded and faint. But whatever he remembered were only of his mother. As a child he had spent most of the time with his mother. His father was not seen much. Most of the time he was away from home. The young man doubted… no he believed that his father’s indifferent nature had led to his mother’s death. Even after his mother’s death, his father had kept his only child away from himself. Even on vacations he never went home but stayed back at the church.

While these thoughts came flooding into his mind, the butler had quietly come beside him. When he got an opportunity, he informed the young man that the old man was awake and wanted to talk to him. The young man with slow steps went near the bed and sat on a chair beside the bed. The old man tried to smile but his lips quivered. When he tried to speak the words could not be deciphered. But the butler seemed to understand every word because he kept nodding quietly.

When the old man’s lips stopped moving, the butler turned towards the young man and started translating. The old man had kept something special on the table for the young man. He also requested the young man to have a look at it and take it with him. The young man moved towards the table. This table was familiar to him. In his childhood, he had often seen his mother sitting by this table and spending her leisure. He also found the book. This book was an object of curiosity for him but he could never have a look at it. In his childhood, he had often observed his mother writing something in this book.

He took up the book and started reading. The book was covered with pictures and writing. The handwriting was familiar to him, that of his mother. The story of the lady was unfamiliar while the pictures were very much known to him. His mother had been an aspiring lady. She had always wanted to be famous, to be loved and adored by everyone. She had tried everything that could have brought fame- singing, acting. She had tried her luck but nothing brought satisfactory results.

In one of the pages she had praised her for his immense support. Even after their marriage he had asked her to continue with her dreams. Her husband had also tried to improve her luck by the influences he had in different elite society. But nothing could be done. Though she had got a loving family and a lovely child, but her aspirations and her want for fame had never diminished. The last page was in the form of a letter which she had addressed to her husband. Here she had asked for her husband’s forgiveness. She had tried a lot, fought with her inner self but at last had to give up. She had also requested that her child should never know of her failures.

The night had gone and the morning light was slowly filling up the sky. The old man’s condition had deteriorated during the night. The doctors had been called and there was now a slight commotion in the room. The doctors were trying to recuperate the man. But old man did not respond to any medication and breathed his last.

The young man came out and was standing in the lawn. For the first time the morning did not seem pleasant,for the first time he felt some longing and yearning for the man he had despised all his life. He wanted to cry and a tear rolled down his left cheek.

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