Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Story- Part 1

I was right there returning from grocery shopping, walking along the road under the dimness of city lights. The street was buzzing with plethora of voices. This day, my mom insisted that I go grocery shopping right after my math tuition which ended at 7:00pm after an hour long lecture and a sample test. It was my elder brother's routine to shop for groceries bi-weekly. Since he was away from home last week, the duty fell into my lap. Not that i complain, but the fact that I had to witness that particular incident make me sick to my stomach every time I remember it.

A week had passed since that incident took place. Today, again I am suppose to ride that way on my bicycle to attend my tuition. I decide to pretend sickness so my mom and dad would not force me to go. As I lay on my bed tossing and turning around, modulating my vocal chords to deliver pain filled sounds, my mom rushed into my room and took me into her arms and stroke against my forehead where I pointed out being painful. She summoned the maid to get some Zandu Balm and some milk. After being rubbed with the ice-cold, minty, tear-prone balm, my mom left the room advising me to drink the milk before it turns cold.
As soon as she left the room, I wiped my eyes, hurried to close the door and overheard mom explaining the situation to dad who has just come home from his work.

As planned my parents fell into my "sick kid" trap.  But walking towards the bed, a different kind of pain, a pain of guilt, hit me hard. Sitting on the bed I turned the television on and started watching pogo. Emptied milk in the glass into my gut and started watching Mr. bean to forget the day's anxiety and guilt that prevailed in my head.

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