This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 30; the thirtieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
Was it only a year back that life had looked so rosy? He had everything then – a loving wife, a son to rejoice in and work that he was passionate about. After a decade of working for others he had embarked on his own venture full of optimism and hopes for tomorrow. It took such a short time for dreams to come crashing down and to lose everything that you had slaved for to get. Rohit looked across at his wife, who was busy managing his fidgety son. She had warned him to close shop and look for a job. Why had he not listened to her then? One year was an eon in his profession. God knows he had tried everything at his disposal to find a job after his venture crashed a month ago. If his wife had not been working, they would have found it difficult to make both ends meet. As it was, they would have to take a drastic cut in their lifestyle. The future he had dreamt of for his son had vanished like a mirage. “Mom! I want to play in the water” “Shh!” Rohit looked around. There was the elderly man, who had carried out all his responsibilities and was serenely watching the sunset. The well-to-do slender man in designer shorts with his son was enjoying the beach. He had come over to the beach to escape the stifling feeling of claustrophobia at home. Now, the deepening sunset only highlighted the gloom that had descended on his life. * * * * * * Geeta! The word was a moan of anguish in the depths of his heart. His wife of forty years and the beat of his heart! In the symphony of his life, she had been the basic harmony. Now that she was no more, there was no music in his life or in his heart. Three months! Three long months since she had gone to sleep and never risen again! Three months since he had forgotten to live and merely existed like an automaton. His son and daughter-in-law had resumed their normal lives. They took care of all his bodily needs but it never struck them that he also needed someone who would find the time to talk to him – merely because he was loved and not because it was their duty. When Geeta was around, he had never felt the lack of company. It had not always been so. Their marriage had been an arranged one and their initial days very acrimonious. She had always been feisty and would not knuckle down to social conventions. But, how compassionate, how caring! It was the basic generosity of her heart that broke through his conventional expectations and he found himself, almost unwillingly, head over heels in love with her. Loneliness had merely been a word to him since then and not the bone-chilling, soul-sapping reality that it was now. Now, she was gone. Forever! That word rang with hollow hopelessness and opened up a vista of endless gloom in front of his unseeing eyes. A gloom as deep as the one presaged by the sun setting across the sea! He looked at the family of three sitting together in silent companionship and at the slender man bonding with his son. The gust of bitter envy that shook his being shamed him but the shame could not shake the chill despair rooted in his heart. * * * * * * “I am going to die, am I not, Dad!” Tears prickled at the corners of Atul’s eyes. The boy’s high-pitched voice had attracted the attention of the people around him but Atul was oblivious. He looked down at the solemn face of his son. He was so young. His was the age to be running around with exuberance; an age where he should have been with his mom fighting for the TV remote or for time on the PC; an age where sorrow was a loss in a video game or a poor test performance and everything else was ecstasy; not the age to be talking solemnly about death. “Cancer is curable, Vinay!” the words came out strangled by the lump in his throat that threatened to suffocate him. The thought of losing his son almost unmoored his reason. This was the child, whose smile had filled his heart with unbearable joy as a babe-in-arms; the child whose first steps had made him prouder than when he had made his first million; the boy who could break a priceless vase and blow away his anger with a woebegone look and a whispered ‘Sorry’; the boy whose unexpected embraces and happy smiles made all his other achievements pale to insignificance. Was it just a shade more than two years ago that Vinay had been a mischievous boy, who could hardly stay still for a second? Every day when he had returned exhausted from work it had taken him barely fifteen minutes with Vinay to feel like he was brimming with energy. The lovingly drawn pictures that Vinay presented to him for his birthdays; the infectious laughter; the merry romping on the bed and the silent loving hugs – all would be gone, drowned in a raging torrent of cancerous cells coursing through Vinay’s blood. “I am glad we came to the beach today, Dad!” Tears sprang unbidden again. So young, so young! Was this the time for a boy to be whimpering with pain as chemicals dug with sharp knives inside his body? He could not bear to remember the sobs from Vinay’s room, muffled because Vinay had not wanted to distress his parents. He thought of his wife, devastated with grief, when the doctors had given scant hope of a cure. They should not be here on the beach today. Vinay was susceptible to infection and he had refused the boy when he first made the request. The disappointment on Vinay’s face tore at his heart and, when Vinay closed up over the next few days, he had given in. God! With all his wealth, he could not even readily give his son the simple pleasure of playing on the beach! Atul found his tears flowing out unbidden. “Dad!” The hint of exasperation came out incongruously from the boyish lips. “I know I may not live for long. Must I spend all that time moping? I know you and Mom are sad. But can’t we have some fun every now and then?” Atul was ashamed. Why was he ruining his son’s days with his distress? Yes, he may have only a few days left but they did have those few days! When his son wanted to take as much joy as he could out of his life, why could he not enjoy those days with his son? “I do not know how many tomorrows I have, Dad. But, today, the dusk is beautiful!” * * * * * * The old man was jolted. What was he doing, moping around for his lost yesterdays? He had had a wonderful life with a wonderful woman and, instead of celebrating it, he was tainting her memory with bitterness. His son and daughter-in-law still cared for him but they had their own lives to lead. Why could he not enjoy the time that they could give him instead of bemoaning the fact that they could not give time when he needed it? Yesterday was gone and what he had rejoiced in yesterday was no more. But, today and tomorrow would bring their own joys - if he was open to them - instead of enshrouding himself in bitter grief. The boy was right. Today the dusk was indeed beautiful! * * * * * * Rohit looked across to his wife. Her eyes were brimming with tears as, indeed, were his own. Life recently had been acrimonious between them but for this moment they were in accord in their sympathy for the boy. What were they fighting for, anyway? As far as he could recollect, even in the bitterest of their fights, she had never once blamed him for stubbornly sticking on with his venture. Nor had she verbally belittled him for being dependent on him currently. Was his fear of his tomorrows – the thought of never finding a job and being a hanger-on – embittering him? Was he taking his wife’s every little act and converting it into an unstated insult? He had a caring wife and was he jeopardizing both his and her happiness today out of the inchoate fear of tomorrow? “Sorry, love!” he said, impulsively. “I have been a grouch this past month. Never again!” Tears fell unhindered from her eyes as she snuggled close to him. They looked out at the beach. The boy was right. Today the dusk was indeed beautiful! * * * * * * Two boys ran towards the water shouting in glee. Vinay looked at his dad enquiringly. “Go ahead, Vinay!” said Atul. Vinay jumped to his feet. He turned to his Dad. “Coming?” he said with a trace of his old mischief in his eyes. It seemed as though he had invited everyone. The old man found himself on his feet. Rohit’s son had taken off towards the water in his own direction. Rohit and his wife rushed after him. Atul got to his feet. His heart seemed lighter than before. “Come, then! I will race you to the water” A dying child had taught them all how to live! Yes, today, the dusk was indeed very beautiful!
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The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. I’m thankful to The Fool, who introduced Blog-a-Ton to me, and I debuted in 27 edition.Credits Image - Shades of Orange by Harsha Chittar Courtesy - Curious Dino Photography via www.blogaton.in