A Storm on the Mountain

CHAPTER IX

A bee laid dead on the balcony floor. A line of insects crawled towards it, through it and attempted to pick the dead body, as if giving the large insect it's final honors; or in this case- to consume it. A very cold but thin breeze made it through the morning, the beads of sheen dew slipped through the surfaces of leaves and grass blades, curving around the structure of the plants- returning to the earth. The sun reflected gold against the greens, bright against the earth and it's shine stretched over the mirrored tiles of the tiny open room- illuminating life in general.

It was a quiet morning, the orange-ish churn of the light lurking through mildly cloudy sky, like a cauldron leaking in a witch's hut. The orange murk peeped through the netted windows of the house, grinning like an evil force- just like the heart peeps out of the eyes. There's a silent burst of a chorus by Koels outside, sitting on a branch of tree or the wires of electric towers, dancing.

The clanking of pots in the kitchen and the smell of a lazy breakfast- grains soaking in milk indicated a normal morning.

Aanav walked out of the bedroom he no longer shared with his elder brother, his face fresh and eyes wide open. It was quiet out there too, Papa sitting on the dining table with a newspaper in his hands, his tea seated in front of him, smoking from the hot liquid. His wife-second, sat against him, eating like a cow pulled towards a hay. Aarav stood behind him, scrambling omelets, and when he was done switched off the flame and handed his younger brother a plate.

After Ma left, the house had become silent- too much so, like a graveyard that even birds wouldn't visit. She simply woke up one day, packed two full suitcases with her clothes, the jewelries Pa had bought her, money she had saved from the household, turned her back on them and walked past the white marble strip of the door. The season didn't even pass when Pa announced (oh so insensitively) that he had been seeing someone behind Ma's back ever since their worlds started clashing. Then, to pretend that everything glittered, he asked his children whether it was fine with them if he got married again.

The approval that supposedly leaked out of the sibling's mouths were almost ghostly-silent. None of them really understood if it was in fact just a shock or they wanted to say No. No! No! No! But neither Aarav nor Aanav let the two-letter word slip their tongues and leave their confined lips.

"It may just happen to be good this time, you know?" Aarav told his brother, trying to put a face on that said he understood everything. Everything. Why was the sky blue? And why did it rain? Or why did birds have wings and other animals did not? Was God Religious?

Aanav's only response was a glare- as cold as molten lava, and then he parted his lips to say something, but his tongue rolled back. He went back to reading like nothing was happening around him. That was the first time in his life he'd felt absolutely alone- no matter those endless moments as a child when he'd been accused of hiding, or running away or just existing so quietly, no one around really noticed. All those moments pooled up in his heart and it was then, he realized that he had always been alone. A flood raised inside his heart, then in his eyes, each drop savagely forcing itself down his earthy cheeks, like a waterfall. His eyes went dark- the light too much to face in that moment.

The following month the divorce papers arrived, and his Pa signed it with a flurry of his Parker. That moment stayed forever, like a stamp- permanence of what was lost. As a human being, Ma had left them but somehow, Aanav thought that she was still there. Who she was, what she had done.

The going away of Ma stepped around the receptacle like a soft ghost leaving behind cold trails, hiding in the bookshelf, behind utensils, the rosewood furniture, the afternoon tea, on coat hangers, or in the absence of words being spoken. But why did the absence linger? Even after she had left?