These are not the best of times for me, ma or didi.
Didi endured a major operation recently. Life since then hasn't been very easy.
Ma, whose condition seems to be the most precarious, is mercifully oblivious to her own condition. It's actually the distress others face that worries me the most. I wonder how long we can pull through and how painful the end will be. I'm consumed in thinking how unfortunate it has been that a cruel twist of fate has robbed her and the people around her so many moments of normal living. Even a semblance of normalcy would be a great relief. My pain consumes me.
I have my own issues, mostly within. It's a conflict I seem to be losing.
Why did dad have to leave so soon?
I'm wearing a rather striking shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and make me too conscious of myself. Checkered in red, grey, black and maroon, I've excused myself into donning it and looking silly for two reasons. It's Friday and…more importantly, the last working day of the year. Tailored half-a-year back, I never had the courage to wear it, not until today. It's that time of the year when it's time to reflect on the events that transpired. Last year ended on the worst possible note. Dad had expired and I was numb with shock. The repercussions rippled halfway thought this year. Things were so abysmal initially that I had lost the will to live. Acrid in everything I did, I was immensely angered by time phlegmatically flowing through its cadence. It was as if Dad meant nothing to anybody. What right did people have to live the way they always had when Dad was no more? Why was much of the world still ...
Comments