Social Issue Story – Incarcerated
Photo credit: taliesin from morguefile.com
“No way! Not in a million years!” I could hear Yaksha arguing with Dad as I closed the door. The open windows didn’t help either.
“What’s it about this time? Marriage again?” I asked mockingly.
Yaksha’s eyes narrowed at me, “The other one.”
“She never listens to me! It’s not like I’m asking her to quit writing! I just want her to finish her degree and get a job! Most girls your age would kill for one.” he said as he puffed on his pipe. Dad was being his usual self.
“And what’s that supposed to mean? That I’m supposed to be grateful that you let me go to college and get a job? You have my gratitude then!” Her voice cracked at the last syllable and tears of anger threatened to break free from her eyes, at any minute.
“Stop it Dad!” My voice, seething with frustration, as I stepped in between them, echoed down the hallway.
“Come here…” Her frail frame shivered as I hugged her. “Lets go get some coffee.”
*********
“It’s not fair you know, you getting to do what you want and me being forced to pursue his dreams. What would you do if he forced you to quit journalism? Or pursue a M.D?”
“Listen Yaksha, he loves you, with all his heart. As do I. And you can do what you want. Whatever you want. But before you follow your heart, you should probably learn to listen to your brain. You can’t just quit college! You know as well as anyone else that to be a successful writer, you’re gonna have to focus all your energy on it. So just get this degree out of your way, it’s barely a year! Do that for Dad and I swear that you’ll get to be anything you want! I promise.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really. I’ll talk to him. He’s just worried you won’t be able to fend for yourself out there.”
“Out where? It’s not like I’m going to war!”
“Nope. Not in the least. War is far more forgiving than reality.”
“Whatever. But thanks, and remember your promise ok?” her smile was back in place and all was right in the world again.
“I will.” As we reached the shop right around the corner the inviting smell of bitter, warm coffee drew us in .
**********
It’d been days and I still couldn’t come up with a single article for my column. At this rate, I’d probably lose the second page in a matter of weeks. But, for the life of me, I couldn’t come up with anything.
Three hours of scrolling through random news papers and five cups of coffee later, I still hadn’t gotten a single word down on paper.
“Hey Doc! Don’t you have tomorrow off of work? Maybe you could take me to that movie I was telling you about? Dad wouldn’t let me go alone.” The disappointment in her voice was evident.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I’ll take you on Monday.”
“All my friends would’ve seen it by then! Why can’t we just go tomorrow?”
“Cuz’ it’s the weekend and I don’t want any disgusting idiots making passes at you.”
She paused before speaking, “You know how Dad wouldn’t let me be a writer?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I understand his reasons now.”
“Oh, what do you think they are?”
“Well, I figured if I can’t even go to the movies on the weekend without making both of you wait with bated breath till I’m safely back home, asking to be a writer right now is definitely pushing it too far.” I could hear her voice trail off as she walked away. The disgust and anger dripping from her voice lingering in my head. I figured if any of this were to change, it was going to start from me. And I realized what my column would be about.
__END__
