Walking slowly on the bed of dry pale-green grass,
coveted in the blanket of humidity, far away from the city of cacophony,
drooling in the epitome silence, a bow of unruly thought struck his head, I should probably die, I am done
with my life. His hands rose
slowly to wipe off the drops of regret from the tired eyes and the hot loo wind
dried the rest.
Residing on the land of Kangaroos for past two years
and working in an exhaustive environment for the sake of some pennies had made
him figuratively lifeless. His health was deteriorating, crying the early signs
of old-age that poked his brain to surrender. Like birds’ hunt for worms, his
head swiftly ferreted to chase a curse that would end his mortality then and
there. The red eyes bore guilt of not knowing the purpose of life, holding back
the sea of despair that would blur his search. Something at the back of his
head or a part of his heart, he couldn’t decide, told him to go back home and
look after his beautiful wife and kids. Akanksha
is already earning well.
She will take a good care of the kids, I am not required anymore – blatantly ignoring the solution
that diluted the conflict with himself.
The sky-blue shade of sky was getting deeper and
darker, paving a way for the sparrows to fly back to their abode. The hot wind,
getting hoarser at every sway, acquainted with dust and dry-sand particles. They
pushed him hard to send him back to his place but his senses were coaxed with
the illusion of cynicism. His eyes narrowed to a distant strip of road, affixed
to the luminescent figure arriving at a fast pace. The strode of his steps were
preparing to catch up the fast and instantaneous death by being the victim of
tonight’s mistake, someone else’s mistake.
Just another moment and I’ll untangle myself from the
web of futility. O’God! Take care of my loved ones.
And the car pushed its wheels harder to stop before
pulling off a mistake, screeching to a halt, breaking the monotony of desolate
silence. The grey Jaguar stood still before him and the eyebrows slanted
upwards owing to an unfulfilled desire.
A blink and the turtle reversed. The man unlocked the
door, stepped outside with a casual pair of slippers and waved lightly with a
smartphone grabbed in his hand.
“Hey Ronnie, what are you up to? You don’t wish to go
back home? I just met your mother, she has reached your place two hours back”,
a flicker of tension passed through his face.
His nose scrunched up, forehead squeezed and a brow
raised slightly higher “Umm, Mom? Yeah, she must have reached by now. Thanks
Sharon, I’ll go back home.”
“Are you sure you’ll reach home? Or shall I drop you
to your place?”- said Sharon with a
“Yeah, I’ll surely.” trying to get diverted from what
happened a minute ago.
“By the way, your mom bakes amazing cakes. She told me
how you taught her to bake.” - blurted Sharon with a pleasantry
gesture.
Ronnie was amazed by how a cherished past took over a
tangled present. A slight curve at the end of his lips bought freshet redness
on his cheeks, eyes wide open and then narrowed down to left, “She told you
about his? Yeah, it was long time back.”
“Ah! Not so long though, you can still bake me a cake
for the next time”- said Sharon with a jovial tone and passed a mischievous
wink.
“Anyways, I have to go now, will surely meet you next
week, don’t forget about the cake.” And the mellow voice dissolved in the warm
wind as he went back to his car.
Ronnie took a step aside, waved him with a porcelain
smile and took his way towards his car. It stood on the green bed of nascent
dry grass locks. With every step he took towards the car, the trail of
self-talk ushered the auld lang syne. How
learning was so easy back then, baking, I completely
forgot about its existence in my life. I can still try my hand on bakery at
home. He swiveled the keys to
unlock the door and there he was, sitting uprightly on the Volkswagen seat, his
fingertips prodding at the music system. He combed for a soothing song that
would enliven his mood and drove back home.
It took him not more than twenty minutes to reach back
to a place where he had started off with a disparate motive. He saw the
children standing at the gate and their faces cheering up with his visit. It
took him not so long to step out from the car, embrace the kids and kiss on the
foreheads of the two.
“Daddy, grandma’s here! Let’s get inside.” – Kiera
squeaked in an uncontrollable excitement.
He walked inside, unprepared with what reason will he
throw of what took him so long from ‘a pastime walk to his favorite park.’ They
exchanged hugs and greetings and eventually, minutes after, settled in his
bedroom. His mother served him the cake she had baked an hour before. “Your
friend, Sharon was the first one to have it. He came an hour back to meet you
but you weren’t there.”- said his mother while serving the sponge cake, cut
squarely in the plastic container to the other members.
“Yeah, I met him on the way when I was about to
suicide”- his words tumbled out like stones pelted over the heads.
Suddenly, every pair of widened eyes was drawn to him,
the eyebrows stuck higher, crunching the foreheads and the breaths held back.
“Why would you do this, son.”- only the mother could break the heavy rail of
silence with a terrified tone.
“I have been thinking about it for a pretty long time
but couldn’t plan exactly of what can I do to give it a decent shape.”- said
Ronnie in a hollow tone and eyes clung to the painting of bright red roses on
the stark white bed sheet. “I can’t talk about it anymore, just that I have
realized I should start baking again. I am resigning next week, so I’ll start
it then.”- quickly wrapping up the conversation, he stood up, scratched his head
lightly and went to the kids room.
A week later, he brushed off the dust from his bakery
paraphernalia and geared up to revise the old lessons learnt 20 years before. A month’s practice and I’ll clear
all the clouds. He took up an
advanced level bakery course in a reputed institute. Working hard and heartily,
there he was, stealing the show, recalling his casual dream of working in the
best bakery shop of Australia. I cannot afford to lose a second. I
have no time left to prove myself.
A flicker of faith would wake him up every morning,
make him practice and put him back to forty winks with a sole dream. A dawn of
realization arrowed that this unbeknownst path will take him to a destination
defined for him. Every day seemed like a fresh plant, seeded with the same
motive, watered with optimism and budding day-by-day to a beautiful tree.
Miraculously, before completing the six-month course, he was called-up by his
dream bakery shop as their only intern. Stupefied, he couldn’t utter a word,
simply thought It’s just a
beginning.
After a successful six-week internship, he ascended
for a next step, risky, yet, wise. He
commenced his own business of bakery, strategized
every step, every twist and turn and took a flight to a completely new phase.
An year later, he looks back, pictures himself as a dead body which would have
been decomposed by now, eaten up by the tiniest of the creatures, soul
regretting the mistakes and pitying the horrid situation.
I never introspected the fact that I can do something
creative, something which I will love to do all the time. I murdered my
innocent dreams under the sandbag of job but now, I dream bravely with my
eyes-wide open. I would have missed the bow which was about to hit that right
place that night. I would have missed the spring at the last stage of the
autumn. I would have missed the knock for a loop forever. Thank God, I stand
here today, alive at a shop, at my place, bake cakes and relive a life of
passion and eternal happiness.
