Since the discovery of Mom's big C, I and dad have adapted to the lives of nomads. Our bags are always packed with a set of spare clothes. We are constantly on the move. It has been days since we have properly lived at our own house. No, do not mistake me. I would not blame mom for this. I just want to let you know that life as a nomad is hard.
Surprisingly, I always thought I wanted to be a traveler. A wanderer with no place to call home. Actually, I can still do that. I am more comfortable at dropping in at a cousin's place and staying there till they actually get a restriction order. Dad is a chip off the old block. His home is his castle. A place where he can do as he pleases. That small, shabby one room kitchen with plaster peeling off the ceiling is a place he bought with his sweat and tears. For him, his home is more than just a rest place. It is his sense of independence, pride and self respect. This life, as a nomad, has robbed him off these very things. Or that is what he feels these days.
A result of that is he is always on the edge. A friction, a word, a random sentence can make him blow his fuse. And boy! Does he blow it! Just yesterday, he lost it on an uncle, who just happened to say 'You are a guest. You will go back home in a couple of days. What do you know about it?' Dad launched into an angry rant about how he does not want to overstay his welcome. And when Dad goes on a rant, he does not watch his mouth. Often, he ends up saying stuff he will regret later. His guilt lasts longer than the effects of the rant. Yet, when it hurts, it hurts.
Meanwhile, I keep Mom happy and somehow, manage to appease the people my Dad pisses off. The easiest explanation is that he is under a lot of stress. They do buy it. Most times. But, when it is all done, and the dust over the rumble quiets down, I sit here and think about his slow degradation. Here was a man who taught me all I know about resilience, patience and kindness. Here is a man who did not raise his voice when the company he worked for 25 years, fired him without pay. He is getting angry. Is there even a point to life?
No comments:
Post a Comment