NIGHTMARES WILL HAUNT MY NIGHTS, GUILT MY DAYS

NIGHTMARES WILL HAUNT MY NIGHT GUILT MY DAYS

A cold evening, moon struggling in vain to light the world. A strong breeze glided from the hills on the west of town.The streets were bare spare a man in a red shirt and black pants. Another hectic day at a job which he loathed!

He strode down the street. Shops were all shut. The monotonous silence broken by a rare car passing by. Shouts of help of a woman and man filled his ears. On nearing the source of the cries, sight of 5 men assaulting the poor couple prompted him to intervene. He ran towards them........

BEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEEEP!

Alarm clock by the bedside, which my mother placed on account of my lack of punctuality rang passionately. I hated that clock but i loved my mother. But that did not stop me from naming the alarm clock JAFFAR the antogonist from Aladdin.

NIGHTMARES HAUNT MY NIGHTS.

I awoke from my sleep... another nightmare, a slightly different variation of the hundreds of the preceding nights. A product of my imagination from the police report and other bits of information of the evening which robbed me of the love of a father.

HUMANITY KILLED HIM!.

HUMANITY FORCED HIM TO HELP THE COUPLE!

HUMANITY KILLED HIM!

Thoughts of my father bring the familiar emotions of sadness and anger into my mind. Sad at his absence, angry at my helplessness.

Mother was 8 months pregnant with my baby sister at that time. Relatives and friends feared that she might have a miscarriage due to the shock. But she was a strong woman. She fought through the pain and despair and brought my innocent baby sister into our cruel world. Father was able to see only her ultrasound image and the only interaction they had was when he felt mother's abdomen for her kicks.

I had found mother in tears on numerable occasions thinking of father. She loved him very much.

18years was the time they had together on earth.

An earthquake can perfectly assess the integrity of the foundation of a building. Similarly such a disaster was required to test the integrity of our relatives and friends. They all offered condolences and periodically checked in on us but none was magnanimous in offering a meaningful help. An old friend of mother was the angel without wings who saved us. She helped mother rejoin her old job. She had resigned after having me. She had no other option but to rejoin. A 7 year old boy and a 2 month old baby will not grow up on their own.

I got off the bed, made the bed which was a practice which I picked off from a whatsapp video of an army officer's speech on importance of making the bed after you get up every morning. After listening to that speech I made sure that my bed did not look like a construction site of a flat nearby before leaving for school.

The day was pleasant. I feel blessed to have such great teachers at school. Usual events at the school rotated the needles of the clock to 4'o clock . There was a 45 min travel from school to home.

On the way home the haunting 9 years old evening repeated in a different form. Instead of five burglars an angry mob played the role.

And the couple was replaced by a young man.

He looked in his thirties, black hair, medium complexion, shirts and pants.

SHIRTS AND PANTS! Like father.

Blood spurted out from the side of his forehead. One of the eyes was already black. His lip was cut.He lay trembling on the floor pleading, bathed in his sweat and blood. The assault has not yet concluded. The assaulters were throwing verbal volleys of obscenities at their victim along with physical offerings. A crowd has assembled around the assaulters and the assaulted.

The members of the consortium who have arrived on scene a few minutes earlier elucidated to the newly arrived their own deduction of the commotion.

I was unable to comprehend any of their words...their voices appeared distant since my ears were deafened by the memories of my father. He would have been beside me if he had not tried to save the couple. Mother will not have struggled to raise my sister and myself alone if he had not tried to save the couple.

Nevertheless the INACTION of the 20 or so people appalled me!What can i do alone. Will I make the mistake(?) my father did. But he was alone, I am not.

How can I be assured of the humanity of the humans around. I prayed for a police officer to appear....perhaps one is on his rounds...or a police vehicle passing ..GOD!PLEASE SEND SOMEONE TO HELP THE POOR SOUL. I could feel my heart pounding inside my chest as if thrashing me from inside for my inaction. Throat became dry, I could feel sweat droplets trinkling down the side of forehead and my bare cheeks.

I felt rooted to the spot. Suddenly the task of holding the schoolbag felt herculean. I wanted to SCREAM! but no sound flowed out from my larynx. When my conscience was strained to the maximum, my consciousness began to depart. Everything was blurry...distant voices....image of my father...

The bashing and shouting have not yet concluded. I looked away.

I ran....ran...ran...ran.....

ran till i felt dying....ran till i felt my heart was about to explode.....

I reached home went straight into bed and sought refuge under the blankets.

BEEEEP! BEEEEP! BEEEP!BEEEEEEP!

Jaffar rang.

The everfaithful alarm clock was punctual. It was morning, I must have slept through supper. Mother was calling from the kitchen. My whole body was trembling due to the previous evening.

"Son why did nt you have dinner....I had gone to bed early...knee..."

Mother had been suffering from knee pain for the past couple of months. Despite my protestations she refuses to see a doctor.

"I fell asleep...had a tiring day"

The doorbell rang. It was the milkman. I greeted him and filled the milk vessel.

"Hey kiddo...did you hear about the incident at the bus station"

I felt cold inspite of the morning sun striking my face head on. The vessel was full. A loud call for the milkman came from our neighbour, a not so pleasant person.

Mr.Tom rushed to her.

I felt obliged to know the fate of the young man. I shouted after him

"Mr.Tom what happened at the bus bay"

"A 28 year old was murdered by a mob"

20 people were there. 20 not one offered help...not one.

My mind conjured up theories to shun me off the guilt. A debate ensued between my mind and my conscience.

"Even if you had stepped forward and helped him, he might have died"

"NO, what matters is I DID NOT step forward whether it may or may not change the outcome does not pertain to me."

"THE OLD AND THE WISE STOOD IDLE. WHY SHOULD YOU NOT SO!"

"The young are the innocent! Years of age will wipe away innocence. The minds of the old have seen the cruelties of the world....not pure. The young mind is pure"

"He might have been a sinner. a con man, a cruel soul who had to be put down. He might have sinned in his past life, he might have been a cruel and dangerous man"

"We do not know about that. He might have been a calm person who followed a peaceful life in which an ant might not have been hurt by him."

"Your Mother struggled a lot to raise you and your sister on her own. You want it all to got to waste. Who will look after them if something happen to you"

"That man is also a son. He has a mother and father like who loves him. He might have been someone's husband ,someone's father, someone's brother. Who will look after them. Who will give them love of a son, love of a husband, love of a father. What will you tell his family who did not know that when the man left for work in the morning they would not meet again."

"DO THE MATH KID! YOU AND HIM TWO LIVES VS ONLY HIM ONE LIFE. DO THE BLOODY MATH KID! 1 LIFE vs 2 LIVES"

"He might have been the sole breadwinner of his family. When a person dies, a part of his/her family dies. All their lives will suffer.

Death is permanent perhaps the most permanent of all the permanents.

It is not one life that is destroyed. It is not 1vs1 you are WRONG!"

My conscience yelled"COWARD!"

I saw blood on my hands....it was not mine...it was the 28 year old's. I never sought the reason for which he was forced to surrender his life...it does not matter..Nothing can justify my actions. Nothing can justify the cruel inhuman act of the mob. The police had caught the offenders based on eye witnesses' testimony.

Eyewitnessess! should not they be punished as well.

As Ginetta Sagan said "Silence in the face of injustice is complicity with the oppressor."

Due to my inaction i have to carry this guilt over me for the rest of my life.

How will I pray. How will I pray for the safety of my family and myself.How can I.

I promise... I promise God that in the future I will step forward.. I WILL STEP FORWARD.

Still,

NIGHTMARES WILL HAUNT MY NIGHTS, GUILT MY DAYS.