“How have been your journey so far, boy?” Asked the man standing right behind him in that crowded bus, hanging on the same rusty iron bar. His sweaty armpits where dripping on his shoulder and his groin rubbed unintentionally on his ass, whenever bus danced among the potholes. ‘Who was he? Why is he bothering me? I don’t even know him, but still he is asking me so much in detail. Fuck off’, he wanted to reply, but just couldn’t. That smiling face deserved respect. Lines on his forehead resembled with his father. Yes their thickness, length, all of it. It was almost the forehead of his father. Rest of the face had no resemblance at all with him. But so what, that was enough for him to bear him the entire journey.
It has been a year, he has left his home now. Not even bother to call once since then. Loss of his father, was a tragedy which changed him completely. Nothing in this world could take his place. What could he have done without him? He never imagined such a situation. For him he was there always. His every success, his every failure, his sickness, his pain all was shared with him. Now what? Loss of father, ensued with responsibility was to much for that child. So he decided to quit. Yes he did something which no one had taught him ever. His father specifically have never trained him to do so. Then from whom he learnt to quit?
Understanding the reasons for person’s behavior in a situation, essentially requires you to understand everything about that person, which except that person no one knows. So for that child, he had his reasons for his actions and that he was not willing to share it with anyone at all.
“So where are you going son”? This question dragged him back to reality. Staring at him blankly over his shoulder, he wondered what to say. “Last stop sir”, he replied and started looking forward, trying to avoid any further conversation.
So when the bus did stop at her last stop and when the only two men got away from her, he got cautious. Is he following me? What the fuck does he wants from me? What if he is some psychopath killer? Afraid and anxious he got down with him and started walking ahead. He knew no one in this town. He was just wandering and killing his time, doing odd jobs and changing places every now and then.
“Son why don’t you come and stay with me tonight”, once again the man offered him help. He was tired, refusing him. But this time he couldn’t resist it. His weakness and hunger overcame his fear and he agreed to go with him and started following him. ‘Fuck off’, he said to himself. ‘What if he kills me, I can be with my Pop again in heaven’.
After evening supper which was thoroughly enjoyed by the boy, he laid down on a bed made for him. While the boy was plunging in his deep slumber he heard the man say, “ Sleep my son, sleep here. Remember no matter what happens, never in life worry about anything at all. I will provide you all. You just focus on following the purpose of your life. Rest all will be taken care by me”
Same words, same sentence, how could it be? He went crazy, his father use to say him, same thing every night before he went asleep. But today after many days he had a full supper so he felt as if he was listening this in his dream or did the man say it. He was confused and instead of asking him he preferred sleeping in that warm quilt. ‘In morning I will ask him, who he is?’, he thought and slept.
Will he get a chance to ask him in morning?
Image – Google
Copyright ©Vishal Raut
First attempt in writing a short story.