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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Life Experience
- Published: 02/04/2014
Silhouette
Born 1994, M, from Shillong/Meghalaya, IndiaIt had been dark. The environment was perfect and the sky pitch black. No sounds of crickets, no croaks of frogs, actually it was captivating, the place and its surroundings. But not to me, I had one issue to deal with. The scenes were still vivid, the voices coherent, and it was real. I knew that it was better than I had believed. The blaring of the sirens and the march of the sheriffs were more than putting me to an oblivious state of mind.
It was already dark when too close to a place I live the thing occurred. Too close that I had in the very beginning let myself suspect if it in any case got anything to do with me. He was busted, a young man of around 20 or so. It seemed he meant to break into my yard or something but not so long before he set off with his new plan, he was arrested. It was dark outside and with that a bit lonely and cold too. But nothing was as cutting and hurting as the very fact that the arrested person was no less than my son.
As I gazed up to the sky, I couldn't help but remember the time he was five when he and I had the whole week spent together surfing and enjoying the sun. It was amazing to me, especially when I saw him enjoying a lot. The moment was memorable to both of us. With the sun in the sky, hot sands below the soles of our feet and the strong waters pushing us towards the shore every time we tried to stand against it, the moment truly made it the best of our lives.
Then something changed abruptly. Something very incomprehensible made its way between the two of us and splited us right apart. He had got himself away from me. I never used to see his face, not again until then -- the arrest. It seemed I had lost him forever but amidst every contradiction, I dreamt of seeing his silhouette -- him returning home -- again.
I had gone to the jail to see him. He looked hopeless than happy to see me. I, for one, felt joy just to cast my glance upon his face.
One day, I went again to see him, it was the third time and I was told it could be the last.
Not looking at me he said, "Thank you, Pa for remembering me and doing everything it takes for my sake. But please don't come here again."
"Why do you think I wouldn't?" I interrupted him.
"I think this is the last time you can see me. It hurts me to see you. And Pa this is my request, please do it as a favour for me."
"Yes." I nodded. I knew it hurt me more to say this, and before I left I turned to him once again. "I want to say something to you before I leave."
"Please do." He stood up and looked a little perplexed.
"You are always welcome in my house. You can come down there whenever you feel like it." And I departed.
I didn't know whether he cried or not. I myself didn't, not in a sense that tears rolled from my eyes. But I did inside. I felt crushed and broken, and outside, my face turned red and my eyes swell. I felt uneasy. I paced to and fro, and something inside me wanted to just burst. "I love you son." I whispered all alone in my backyard. "Yea, I've loved you with such unknown love." This time I fell on my knees.
"I really love you, son. I love you, son!" I cried aloud. This time tears gushed forth and I didn't know the front part of my shirt was totally soaked.
Every day then moved as yesterday, nothing big changed. And nothing at all changed in my world. Every day revolved in that same orbit except one. I learnt that my son was released. I did not go to get him, I kept my promise and I waited at home, if by any chance he would show up. It actually did not change, the news of him being released did not bring any great result. He never showed up.
I was about to give up on my hope of his return when I realized all my patience and long-suffering that I had endured would then be in vain. I then determined I'd never quit.
When would my perseverance be paid off? I was starting off for a walk, having got myself ready I moved towards the hall door and opened it. Behold and lo, he stood right in front of my face. It was my son. He stood straight, didn't do anything, didn't say anything. He looked agitated, his eyes fell on my eyes, then on my shoulders, then on the flowers near the doorpost and back on me. He was crying, I could see. He shook himself unable to control his emotions. He was contrite at heart. His eyes blinked and tears fell from them. Seeing him contrite and heartbroken just tore my heart wide apart, my heart was divided into two, literally. He looked so helpless, but so lovely to me. He was precious, way precious to measure. I couldn't waste much time, I met him and brought him close to myself.
"Forgive me, Pa." He gave out an incoherent whisper -- it being incoherent was because of those tears that choked him.
"Yes, I do forgive you. And you know son, I love you."
Wrapped around me, he cried over my shoulder like a child. I squeezed him tightly to let him know he was secure, and he felt so. Within my arms I felt the two hearts beat at the same rhythm. I pitied him greatly, I wonder who wouldn't. I felt compassionate about him. Every doubt was then removed and everything settled. It's okay that running away, it's okay that defiance, and everything that had happened in the past, it's all okay. I didn't bother to care about anything and I stopped caring about my reputation and I no longer thought about what would happen to my good name. What I cared at that instant was a child had finally come back to his father. And I am the father. The father who had almost all his days wasted casting his eyes to a great distance to see his son's silhouette and him returning home.
After a couple of months, he agreed on his own accord to stay with me temporarily, he would soon leave me to share his life with someone he loves. I agreed too and on my own accord, and I smiled, at least he would not be far away and more importantly he's no longer lost.
Sinking down on my bed that night, l beamed heartily. I beamed at the fact that what had taken place, all these incidents and happenings, were so similar to a one story I had known as a child.
*********The End*********
Silhouette(Easeborn Ronny Kharbuki)
It had been dark. The environment was perfect and the sky pitch black. No sounds of crickets, no croaks of frogs, actually it was captivating, the place and its surroundings. But not to me, I had one issue to deal with. The scenes were still vivid, the voices coherent, and it was real. I knew that it was better than I had believed. The blaring of the sirens and the march of the sheriffs were more than putting me to an oblivious state of mind.
It was already dark when too close to a place I live the thing occurred. Too close that I had in the very beginning let myself suspect if it in any case got anything to do with me. He was busted, a young man of around 20 or so. It seemed he meant to break into my yard or something but not so long before he set off with his new plan, he was arrested. It was dark outside and with that a bit lonely and cold too. But nothing was as cutting and hurting as the very fact that the arrested person was no less than my son.
As I gazed up to the sky, I couldn't help but remember the time he was five when he and I had the whole week spent together surfing and enjoying the sun. It was amazing to me, especially when I saw him enjoying a lot. The moment was memorable to both of us. With the sun in the sky, hot sands below the soles of our feet and the strong waters pushing us towards the shore every time we tried to stand against it, the moment truly made it the best of our lives.
Then something changed abruptly. Something very incomprehensible made its way between the two of us and splited us right apart. He had got himself away from me. I never used to see his face, not again until then -- the arrest. It seemed I had lost him forever but amidst every contradiction, I dreamt of seeing his silhouette -- him returning home -- again.
I had gone to the jail to see him. He looked hopeless than happy to see me. I, for one, felt joy just to cast my glance upon his face.
One day, I went again to see him, it was the third time and I was told it could be the last.
Not looking at me he said, "Thank you, Pa for remembering me and doing everything it takes for my sake. But please don't come here again."
"Why do you think I wouldn't?" I interrupted him.
"I think this is the last time you can see me. It hurts me to see you. And Pa this is my request, please do it as a favour for me."
"Yes." I nodded. I knew it hurt me more to say this, and before I left I turned to him once again. "I want to say something to you before I leave."
"Please do." He stood up and looked a little perplexed.
"You are always welcome in my house. You can come down there whenever you feel like it." And I departed.
I didn't know whether he cried or not. I myself didn't, not in a sense that tears rolled from my eyes. But I did inside. I felt crushed and broken, and outside, my face turned red and my eyes swell. I felt uneasy. I paced to and fro, and something inside me wanted to just burst. "I love you son." I whispered all alone in my backyard. "Yea, I've loved you with such unknown love." This time I fell on my knees.
"I really love you, son. I love you, son!" I cried aloud. This time tears gushed forth and I didn't know the front part of my shirt was totally soaked.
Every day then moved as yesterday, nothing big changed. And nothing at all changed in my world. Every day revolved in that same orbit except one. I learnt that my son was released. I did not go to get him, I kept my promise and I waited at home, if by any chance he would show up. It actually did not change, the news of him being released did not bring any great result. He never showed up.
I was about to give up on my hope of his return when I realized all my patience and long-suffering that I had endured would then be in vain. I then determined I'd never quit.
When would my perseverance be paid off? I was starting off for a walk, having got myself ready I moved towards the hall door and opened it. Behold and lo, he stood right in front of my face. It was my son. He stood straight, didn't do anything, didn't say anything. He looked agitated, his eyes fell on my eyes, then on my shoulders, then on the flowers near the doorpost and back on me. He was crying, I could see. He shook himself unable to control his emotions. He was contrite at heart. His eyes blinked and tears fell from them. Seeing him contrite and heartbroken just tore my heart wide apart, my heart was divided into two, literally. He looked so helpless, but so lovely to me. He was precious, way precious to measure. I couldn't waste much time, I met him and brought him close to myself.
"Forgive me, Pa." He gave out an incoherent whisper -- it being incoherent was because of those tears that choked him.
"Yes, I do forgive you. And you know son, I love you."
Wrapped around me, he cried over my shoulder like a child. I squeezed him tightly to let him know he was secure, and he felt so. Within my arms I felt the two hearts beat at the same rhythm. I pitied him greatly, I wonder who wouldn't. I felt compassionate about him. Every doubt was then removed and everything settled. It's okay that running away, it's okay that defiance, and everything that had happened in the past, it's all okay. I didn't bother to care about anything and I stopped caring about my reputation and I no longer thought about what would happen to my good name. What I cared at that instant was a child had finally come back to his father. And I am the father. The father who had almost all his days wasted casting his eyes to a great distance to see his son's silhouette and him returning home.
After a couple of months, he agreed on his own accord to stay with me temporarily, he would soon leave me to share his life with someone he loves. I agreed too and on my own accord, and I smiled, at least he would not be far away and more importantly he's no longer lost.
Sinking down on my bed that night, l beamed heartily. I beamed at the fact that what had taken place, all these incidents and happenings, were so similar to a one story I had known as a child.
*********The End*********
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