A day in life

 

Something stuck on his molar from the lunch earlier. He was struggling to get it out, rolling his tongue around the molar. Too lazy after a tiring week, he didn’t want to go and grab a tooth peek. Sometimes trying to resolve small problems give minuscular joys and overcoming those gives sense of achievement however small it might be. Afterall it’s the purpose that we seek for our life, make a name for ourselves before we share our farewell with the world. Finally the molar was free and he felt a joy.

It was warm outside, the light reflected by the Solar panels from his neighbour was an invitation by the nature to soak in the glory of the warm Australian Sun. He was inside the blanket, it was warm but there is no comparison between the warmth of Sun and a blanket, how can it be. Yet he didn’t rise rather pulled his blanket, a momentary warmth was enough and he gave up the idea of going outside.

Children no longer needed his care, the daughter was 15 and the Son was 18. The missus was at work. She works on weekends because the pay is higher in weekends. It is difficult to remember when they were home together for the full day without stressing his brain.

The bell chimed, “Rohan!!!” he called his son. No answer. He knew before he called that there will be no answer. The headphone would have isolated Rohan from the “noise” of rest of the world, or the sound of his video games would have taken over his auditory faculties. Yet human is a creature of habit and he had to yell. He got up and let his daughter in, no words exchanged, he had a quick look at her face trying to catch her sight but no. He closed the door and Ayesha, his daughter had vanished to her room, door shut.

A memory of his earliest days in India rushed to his consciousness. He used to live in college hostel but later moved to a rented apartment with few other students. While other students were replaced by another set of other students he stayed in the apartment. At one point he knew no one in the apartment. Only a smile to acknowledge each other presence. Today at this moment his home felt same except there was no “smile” for courtesy. It felt as if there were four strangers living under the roof.

Boxes from Amazon lied unopened in the passage, someone had bought something online on impulse and now didn’t care about it now. There were dishes on the sink. He yelled “Aisha you said you will do the dishes today!!!”, no reply. “Aisha”

“Its Rohan’s turn today” finally came the reply, followed by “No I did it on Wednesday.” The dishes won’t be done. Rajani doesn’t like dirty dishes when she is back. Of course she won’t after a hard-day work. If she find dirty dishes it will instantly turn her mood off, her monologues laden with complaints which will start with dirty dishes but then encompass almost all the maladies of life will be unbearable. Its not for love, but for pity and to avoid complaints he did the dishes.

On the wall hung a picture of the day they were married, then the picture of little Rohan, the picture of new born Ayesha. He wondered when he decided to get married he had imagined his life this way, or did he imagine his life 19 years from that day. Young, thin and brimming with happiness he had started his married life, today he has just gotten used to it. His marriage is just like his age, he carries it. It has become part of him, he doesn’t think about it, doesn’t appreciate it but seems indifferent. He doesn’t want to think whether he loves Rajani or not, he knows it will be difficult if not impossible without her, he cannot imagine his life without her, yet there is no speciality, no yearning for it. What has become his life? What makes a group of people living together a family? Blood relation, social relation. Obviously not it’s the emotional attachment. Do we have any emotional attachment left? His answer will be affirmative but with room for confusion.

Earlier when he used to get frustrated with the children he used to say, its for you we came to this unknown country leaving everything behind and look what you are doing. You have no appreciation. Its for your future we made sacrifices and look at you, how reckless you are, how careless you are.

These were also the words from his parents when he was growing up. His own reflection reminded him of his late dad. He has become his dad, in face, in behaviour, and worse of all in his thinking. Why worse, because he was stuck in past. But later he realized he didn’t come to Australia for the children. Ayesha was born in Australia. Coming to Australia for the sake of children is just an excuse immigrants make to hide what they thought was their own failure. They came with a dream which didn’t realize and they consoled themselves with “only if” statement. Life we live is rarely the life we would have dreamt. We had our own house back home in Nepal, no mortgage, many of those who stayed behind seem happy back home. So what have we gained coming to Australia mortgage, uncertainty and constant turmoil. Why did we come then? Our excuse “for children”

He told himself it was not for children did he come to Australia, it was for himself. He thought it would be better in Australia. Even being the only child didn’t make him hesitate before he decided to move to Australia. He didn’t get admission so he made Rajani apply and luckily she got the admission.  He had left 2 years Rohan with his parents.

Why should he expect anything from his children when he wasn’t there when his father passed away, and only for about 10 days before his mother. He doesn’t lay blame to himself. When his father passed away, he had just returned to Nepal after staying in Australia for more than two years.

As for his mother, she didn’t want to come to Australia after his father passed away, she rather wanted to settle in Devghat. He had tried his best to convince her to come to Australia. When she got ill she didn’t even want to let him know, only after she was hospitalized he learnt about his mother and had immediately flown back. She won’t speak and he wasn’t sure if she didn’t speak deliberately or she couldn’t speak. Day before she passed away she had looked at him, those dry and tired eyes looked deep into soul, few tears dropped. She had held his hands and he had kissed her forehead. Next day she was gone. He dreams of her often, clad in a bright red shawl and red vermillion on her forehead, as if she has just escaped from one of the old photos taken few days after her marriage. She will simply stare at him, he wouldn’t see himself in the dream but he knew she was staring at her. Then sometimes he would dream of her old and frail, her hair white like snow, her eyes deep like the well in his ancestral home. She wouldn’t utter a single word. Her gaze was the same as it was on the day before her death. She looked full of love in dream and it seemed she wanted to say something. He wondered if she wanted to ask him to stay in Nepal with her but couldn’t, did she blame him for his father’s death, or is there any other reasons he had failed her. He couldn’t fathom but the dreams won’t stop, everytime he dreamt of her it was one of the two, his young mother or an old version of her. Rarely did he see his father in his dreams, when he saw him he saw him happy talking with others. He would see his mother in those dreams as well but he never saw his face. He wouldn’t understand why in any of these dreams he wouldn’t see himself. Is it because he had left them? Are those dreams, his guilt in hiding.