QB Short Stories

Road Always Taken…

His face was tense, but he was breathing light. He might don’t want to but he has to. He can simply leave everything behind and can walk on because what exactly are these human relations, nothing but the creation of “men’s” fear. I m using men’s purposely because in the end it’s all about men. But who cares for him a girl, a boy, woman, man, animal, infant does not matter at all. He can sit under the sun for whole day long but that also not written in his fate as sun has to go down at one point of time and moon will take its place. But what is not happening in his life was that revolution, rotation or whatever we talk about earth’s axis as his sun went down long ago but what’s not regenerating at all was that sun.

His fellow mates were ‘crying’ his name. Crying, because even the minimalist resonance of their voice sounds as an enormous weep or cry! He was coated with sweat, his eyes were watery. His posture was the same. He was sitting beneath the unfixed pole in the middle of the divider lane on the road. His hands were cuffing his knees and his head like a dead man on one of his elbow. His back bend because of the burden of thoughts and reality. What was he looking at? Maybe people, the girl in the white shorts or the woman with her child. No it was the man with his family on scooter. What does he desire then?

Maybe a wife like that helmet covered dominating creature has or maybe a family where number of children is not more than the number of zeros in his wage. No it was the scooter, or was it? It was nothing! It was just the moment of distraction he was looking for.

He could sell his daughter in the market and buy ten’s of scooters, because no one will ask him question. It will be in the newspaper for a day but then SWAP, all gone. But he cannot do this he loved his daughter and knew her worth. She wasn’t a burden to him she was a part of his own family who are dependent on him now but will sooner or later make out a way for themselves and for him as well. Then what was it that he was thinking and concerned about.

He wanted to cry but cannot do so. Maybe he doesn’t want to be a victim of “public humiliation”. Apparently in this democratic country or in this socialized world no individual is alone, he has to take care of her family,neighbours, neighbors’ friend, person she randomly smile back minutes ago(while a girl smiling towards a man is actually “asking for it”), people on the road who need to check on his/her activities, that shopkeeper.

Everyone, ‘because in this world you all are children of god and god doesn’t teach his children to differentiate amongst each other!’ so it’s your duty not as an individual but as a subject of “Subject” (THAT DIVINE POWER!) to poke into everyone’s business cz you all are brothers and sisters (till the time you don’t know each other’s religion, class, caste etc.!)

But still we have that man sitting in that vivacious sun light, eating him away and he was still thinking! From that little window that I could watch, I realized that he wasn’t thinking he actually made me think and re think, analyze and over analyze that why he was still sitting there beneath the unfixed pole in the middle of the divider lane on the road and I have all the right to be at my window.

He wanted to feel that pain again and again so that he can go to work for the remedy sake. His posture was baseless but still he choose to sit, his head was empty (he might not had the chance to be educated at the level we so called literates are or he had all the education but not the corruptness in his blood!) but still he choose to think, his eyes narrates a different story but his brows something else.

It’s all about maybe and may not be, judgments and perceptions. If there was ever or is a divine power he/she should have not render the choice of making haves and have not’s amongst the men, for me that’s the divine attempt. If you cannot seize the wrong then where is the divine! That man can sit there for a day more or a year but he always have to through each and every concerned and laughing eye who cannot even think of his situation and who don’t even want to.


Kanika Saini

Human. English graduate. Dog lover. Sometimes writer most of the time engrossed in mind exercise which further results in writing.
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