A Coffee at Dawn

Chapter 15: Life and its Detours!

2008 :

A year later, At home!

" Ma, I shall be on the terrace. If anything needed give me a call. I shall come down. "

It was 10 in the night, I had skipped my dinner which had been something usual by now. Samrat was busy bending the bars and lifting weights. He had made his room, a mini gym. For him nothing mattered other than his protein shakes, eggs, supplements and body building. I always missed my brother, who when was a kid, would run up to me and scream at the top of his voice till I played with him or took him out for a walk. He was 5years younger to me. There were times when I ran back to home from school just so that I could be with him.

Things had changed with time. We, brothers had started to part. I always used to mock him to walk on the right path which he always felt offensive and hence he had preffered not to have a word with me at all. The only interactions we used to have was in any argument. I had a stranger in my own house in the form of my brother.

"Mayu, its cold out there and you will fall ill. You have not had your dinner as well. Don't go now. Finish your dinner and go if you still want to. Not with out having dinner. " my concerned mother was worried about me. I always felt it strange with the connection between mothers and the food habits.

"Ma its fine. Plate the food, I will come down after a while and have it. Do not wait." I moved up the stairs.

From the corner of my eyes I could see my mother's face drop down with grief. I knew the reason behind it. For a home maker it is tough to see her family walking apart. Yes the three men in the house had no bond, she was just helpless.

"Sam, atleast you finish your dinner and give me some air to breath. " I could hear my mom shout. I was used to such scenes by now. I turned a deaf ear and moved up with out a stop.

Dad was not home yet and that did not really matter to me. He usually came home by 10.30. Have food by 11.30 and would sleep. That did not really give him much time to spend with us. Not that he would even if he had some. Weekends that could be perfect for a family time, were spent in every possible way other than with each other. It always seemed to me that mom was the only one who fought to keep all the three men in her life in a basket. Dad was always up for his work, which when questioned, he would always say that he had worked all these years to only keep us happy. I'd say, what's the point of working and minting money if you don't have the time your family wants.

I always felt I had grown in the most boring manner unlike the other chaps of my age. I never went to grounds or pools with my dad when I was young. I never swung by his arms in the terrace. Never did he throw me up in the air and catch me. At a very young age I had noticed all of this and had concluded that my father did not believe in all such things. I always had put it in my mind that he is busy and working to keep us happy. But as I grew I realised, such moments which I missed created a void between us. At this age all I wanted is a father who was more like a friend but for my dismay, I was not granted with that.

I remember those days when I stayed up all night waiting for him to come home, just to show what I had sketched in school that day, or to show him the medals I had won in the competition but, sleeping on the sofa unanswered by him. I always wanted to see my father proud of me, I wanted to see that glitter in his eyes. I wanted him to pat my back or put his arms around my shoulder and ask me

"hey son! How is every thing going on? "

May be that was too much of me to expect.