Social Short Story – THERE WILL BE TIME: The Beginning of a Journey
Photo credit: emlyn from morguefile.com
The clock ticked away and announced the time, it was late. A faint voice resounded in the empty room, ‘There will be time’ and it brought a smile on my lips. Heaving a sigh I dragged my chair near the open window. The sky was scarlet hinting the advent of the monsoon showers. A cold breeze was blowing which gently caressed my cheeks. With the smile playing on my lips I remembered those painfully numbered days passed in careless ecstasy. Those days were gone. It was a somber evening to remind oneself of the mellow moments residing in the memory. After all the project of finding good memories was more than worthwhile, I therefore deliberately forced myself to indulge in that adventurous journey.
The smile played on my lips and I soon discovered from the recesses of my mind my first happy memory, I saw the little boy eagerly making paper boats and his gleeful eyes as the pitter- patter of the rain drops started resounding on the tin roof of the garage. But the boy’s eyes were soon filled with tears as the boats got immersed. The boats were not steady…
The wind was blowing harder and brought the smell of the upcoming showers, I closed my eyes again enjoying the fondling of the windy strokes. A very happy child with a certificate in one hand and a medal around the neck and a picture in the other hand came running. Brimming with exhilaration and pride, he searched for a spot to frame his new found glory; replaced a picture on the wall with the portrait of his family and then started admiring it from every corner. But the child’s eyes were soon filled with tears as he received a sound thrashing for destroying the valuable framed picture on the wall. The pastel coloured picture was not significant…
A sudden blast of wind flattening my thin hair reminded me of the day when a huge quarrel broke out in the house when I expressed my dream to become a poet.
‘Don’t you ever think? Don’t you ever try to understand? Don’t you have any sense of responsibility?’ were my dear father’s agitated remarks on hearing such a sacrilegious aspiration.
My mother joined my father but in a calmer tone, ‘ Don’t follow such paths they won’t support you in any way.’ My father rejoined in a hoarse voice, ‘ If only God would have spared me and I hadn’t had the stroke I would have thrown you out this very instant! You see my condition and yet you refrain from your duties, you have no shred of sympathy! You’re an insolent…you’re….’ and he couldn’t finish the sentence as my mother had started sobbing. I really felt like kicking myself for being so selfish. I went to my room, got hold of the copy containing the poems and crumpled it into a round ball. The verse was not strong….
The rain drops were dancing on the nearby leaves and I inhaled the scent of wet vegetation. Working for a software company was financially satisfying but family got neglected so much so that only financial transactions became familiar topics in familial conversations. I had sent the money yesterday and they were dissatisfied.
‘How can we survive like this?’ were my mother’s pointed question over the telephone on receiving the amount. Before I could think of a good reason that would hide the truth, she added, ‘You know, you have your whole life left, perhaps it would be better if you spend a little less on your personal needs for now’. She stressed about my needs but in a whole different way. However, their anger was justified as I my own requirements had exponentially increased in the past few months. But things would be fine because my two younger brothers had procured good jobs regarding which I was informed by my uncle a month ago. Perhaps my family will share the good news with me someday. I was happy for them which kept the smile playing on my dry lips.
The rain was getting thicker and the nearby landscape seemed hazy. The temperature had definitely gone down a few degrees and it was soothing. The light blue coloured medical file rested on the writing desk. I smiled again; I had never heard so many tough words in my lifetime. The worried face of the doctor in his spotless white coat fleeted past my mind. He gave me a promising look that failed to conceal the gravity of the situation and said, ‘Get admitted ASAP and we will start the chemo therapy. But it is a stage four metastatic melanoma so you have to follow the procedure carefully.’
He gave a reassuring smile and added the list of tests and procedures I needed to undergo and the amount required for such a sumptuous treatment. I had walked back to my one room apartment and went through that file so many times that I had almost memorized it. The treatment required a staggering amount with a very slim chance of survival and a storehouse of pain. I tried to decide but couldn’t come to any definite conclusion. The rain was drizzling with an exhausted force and I thought, mother alive, father partially paralyzed, brothers working and I, their stepson had cancer.
I urged my mind to take a rational decision but a myriad of memories overcrowded the brain. My jangled nerves craved for some relief as the journey down the memory lane didn’t provide me with a definite answer. A strong gust of wind blew, unfurling the curtain which in turn swept an empty bottle off the desk and its shards flew in all possible directions.
‘There will be time’ the voice echoed in my ears as I stooped down to pick up the broken pieces. With ebbing strength, I rose up unsteadily and realized my own insignificance. I never really had decided anything; I have just followed commands by comforting myself with that weak assurance that there will be time, one day, someday. I stared at the bleak brown sky hiding the full moon in its shadows for quite some time. Finally its time, time to embark on a new journey, time to say goodbye…
I was completely preoccupied with letters, mails and phone calls for the next few days. I have straightened out every legal and business issue. I informed my family whose first bewildered words were, ‘How will we manage if you decide to quit your job on a whim’ but before they could start a quarrel I divulged my knowledge regarding my brothers’ employment and a stark silence followed and no more questions were asked.
The next morning I saw the dawn lighting up the blue horizon and the smell of morning fresh air wafted towards my nostrils. The empty room had a packed suitcase waiting near the door. The mellow yellow beams brightened the landscape and a silent steady voice pronounced, ‘Now is the time. Follow thy dreams as long as possible’ and I stepped out ….
–END–
