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Fiction Park
The Mirror
“Perhaps there is the best of you when you realise all the distance you travelled and the times you conquered flying in the immaculate sky with the blowing winds of aspirations. You probably had your beginning and most of you had already landed in an area where you wish to create your own home, family, children and future, after all.bookmark
Sandesh Parajuli
Published at : November 25, 2018
Updated at : November 25, 2018 08:18
“Perhaps there is the best of you when you realise all the distance you travelled and the times you conquered flying in the immaculate sky with the blowing winds of aspirations. You probably had your beginning and most of you had already landed in an area where you wish to create your own home, family, children and future, after all. Many of you do not know whether it was your destiny but still you cheer your life because you know how desperately you flew with times to reach there. How hard your journey be, you probably might have a reason to smile and yes, it is divine to see you gleam your eyes. Go in front of a mirror and see your reflex, there is the best of you.”
Guru Swaminanda had said these words earlier this afternoon amidst the function in Rangelitaar. People from Rangeli village and distant districts were there to be languished by the words of wisdom in the scorching heat of Asar. Balkrishna had experienced a huge impact. He had listened every words with an aura of animation and had observed the moving lips of Guru with enthusiastic eyes from beginning to the end.
“Ramesh has landed. Said would stay a night in Kathmandu,” Balkrishna spoke as the couple sat for the dinner. Sarita was surprised. “Our son is returning? How could you not tell me such wonderful news?” Sarita was ecstatic.
“I didn’t know it earlier. He phoned me just now. I was surprised, too,” said Balkrishna. “He will board a bus tomorrow and will be here by evening.”
Like guru said, Balkrishna had a reason to smile not because he conquered his aim or reached the zenith of glory. For all his childhood, he dreamt of becoming a doctor and walking around with a stethoscope hanging round his neck. He himself does not know how he was dragged to be a headmaster of a private school. He was hard hit with debts but never feared of turning insolvent because he knew that his son would return from US with an aeronautical engineering degree.
Balkrishna stood right in front of a mirror. It was the first time that he noticed wrinkles in his face. He turned towards Sarita who was there on the chair trying to get something from the rack. She was wizened as well. “We’re going senile,” he whispered and again reached the mirror. He knows that his son Ramesh has a good income, will pay the debt by next two years and would ultimately take them to the US in three years. This gives the man a hint of satisfaction. His eyes gleamed. And yes, in the mirror, was the best of Mr Balkrishna.
“Hello,” Sarita received a phone call.
“Excuse me, are you Mr Ramesh’s parent?” spoke the other side.
“Yes. I am his mom.”
“Madam we are so sorry to inform you that your son endured a dangerous accident. You may have seen about Muglin’s accident in TV, haven’t you? He died in the way to hospital, we’re extremely sorry.” And then the line was cut off.
Sarita felt an extreme suffocation. She felt as if she was dragged by the whirlwinds of waters towards the deepest trench of an ocean. The world fell over her. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She went to the kitchen straight, produced a glass of water and stirred a sleeping pill. Simulating the normal exposure, she entered the room with the glass.
“He should have arrived by now. And…and he is not receiving his phone.” Balkrishna looked worried.
“Don’t you know about the traffic jam? Have this water and sleep. It’s getting late,” Sarita said and went out. Perhaps for her those were the hardest words ever to speak; Balkrishna noticed nothing, drank it and suddenly fell asleep. Sarita completely shattered and realised no worth of living.
Early in the morning, Balkrishna found Sarita still asleep by his side. She carried a paper in her hand. It read: “tonight I am going to put myself to sleep a bit longer. Call it eternity…”
Balkrishna felt a tremor inside. He tried to wake her up but to no avail. He cried hard, tears sprang down his pale, shrivelled cheeks. He started throwing everything here and there, knelt down and yelled, “Why Sarita? Why this? “
All of a sudden there was a phone call. With his white open eyes and inane mentality he received it, “Excuse me sir, this is Narayani Zonal Hospital. We want you to take your son’s body.”
Balkrishna looked at the mirror once again and it had his most horrible reflex, perhaps the worst of Mr Balkrishna.
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