An Escape From Reality

5:15 AM

The alarm, a device that has the capacity to penetrate the deepest of slumbers and jolt one into a conscious state, ending the blissful absence of pain, guilt, unrequited love and every other toxic emotion. Most people develop a loathing towards this man-made instrument that facilitates self-inflected torture.Geetha however, harbours no such feelings, she is glad to wake up, as a matter of fact she prefers it. She wakes every morning with goals, which she diligently full fills through the day. Being a homemaker is no easy task but Geetha is an efficient worker. With the very first pulse of the alarm striking her ear, she was up, she quickly turned to her left and switched off the alarm with her right hand careful not to wake her husband. She sat up, thanked the lord for giving her yet another day and got off the bed. The day had begun.

“Ahh, what should I cook today?” she murmured to herself. Perhaps this is one of the undying questions that as adults most of us have to face, being a woman makes it all the more probable, some would say. She switched on the water heater and picked the attire that she would adorn for the day. A quick shower followed by an even quicker dress-up session and she was ready to face the day!

5:45 AM

She walked into the living room and turned on the lights, the sun hadn’t yet risen to illuminate her side of the world. The artificial illumination revealed a tangible definition of a middle class home. A sofa set and a television strategically encircled a plain square wooden table resting on a mundane light brown circular carpet. She stood at the entrance to her bedroom, facing the television and the main door. The entrance to the kitchen was to her right, to her left was another bedroom, her son’s. She slowly walked towards a picture of the lord. She placed her right hand on the picture, her left hand on her chest, closed her eyes and begun to whisper a pray, “Lord, thank you for giving me another day, thank you for keeping my family safe through the night. On this day O lord, I beseech you to shine you graceful light on my son, he is going through a tough time now and he is trapped in a web of wrongs! Help him O lord! Help him be all that you make him to be! Bless my son, father!”As she uttered these words, tears collected in her eyes and gracefully made its way down the curvature of her face. Wiping them off and holding back sad snobs she made her way to the kitchen.

5:50 AM

It was time to cook breakfast! Given an option she wouldn’t choose to cook but the thought of who she was cooking for, served ample motivation. She took her time preparing the meal. She was never one to make agile movements but on this day she was slowed down further due to a heaviness that her heart housed. She couldn’t keep her mind from replaying the previous night’s episode, the argument she had with her son echoed in her mind almost involuntarily. She recalled looking up at an unapologetic face, being overwhelmed with anger that quickly changed to sadness and the indifferent look she got as tears rolled down her face. All she wanted was for her son to come home on time. “Is it too much to ask for?” she muttered to herself.

6:45 AM

She glanced at the small watch on the microwave and registered the time in her mind. “I better wake them up” she said to herself. She walked to her bedroom door stood at the entrance leaned in and said “Its 6:45”. She waited until her husband made a movement then walked towards her son’s room. She pushed the door with her right palm, the door swung open to revile a human devoid room. “I can’t believe he hasn’t come back yet!” she gasped. She stormed into her bedroom and shouted, “He is not back yet!” Two drowsy eyes looked up at her. “I know”, her husband replied, weakly. “Your son has been out the whole night, we don’t know where he is and all you can say is, I know?” she asked agitatedly. “This is not the first time”, her husband said monotonously. “You really deserve an award for this careless attitude!” she said with disappointment. “He will come” her husband said as he walked into the bathroom.

7:00 AM

Geetha opened the front door and picked up the newspaper sat down on one of the single sofas and began to read. It’s intriguing how sometimes we can be totally involve in a task and yet be completely disassociated from it. On the face of it, Evelyn seemed to be caught in an article, encapsulated by it! The truth however is that the words she read bounced of her mind, failing to enter it. Her thoughts revolve around one thing, her son!

7:15 AM

Geetha’s husband walked into the room and sat at the dining table. Evelyn served him breakfast and sat down in front of him. She looked at him and recalled how it used to be between them. There was a time when they talked about everything but now they hardly looked at each other. Silence had penetrated into their lives and changed it. Although she disliked it, she found a strange comfort in it, she preferred it. “Are you going to call him or should I?” she asked, shattering the quite. “You know he won’t pick up or he would have switched off his phone”, he said. “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try!” she replied. “Okay, call him if you want”, he said. “I will”, she replied. She walked to the landline, picked it up and dialled her son’s number. “Not reachable” she said worried. “I will call him later” her husband said after a long pause. “I have to leave now, I don’t want to be late” he added and left.

7:40 AM

Evelyn sat alone in a house haunted by silence. Tears began to pour down her cheeks, she let herself weep until she was almost drained to the very last drop. She laid on the sofa and closed her burning eyes. In a while, she drifted into sleep-like state.

10:36 AM

Sometimes when we fall asleep, we tend to dream of all the wrong things, our fears use it as a platform to manifest themselves and we get up feeling mentally and physically drained. Geetha experienced the same. Fear woke her up, she laid on the sofa and tried to recollect her dream. She dreamt of walking in an open field. She saw a basket kept on fresh green grass and walked towards it, inside there was a baby but not a happy baby, not one that laughed and smiled, this one was different, this one was dead. She picked up the still baby and held it in her arms. It looked familiar, she then recognised it to be her brother.Pain grasped her soul, a wave of sadness hit her and she fell to the ground unable to feel her legs. She stared at that life-less tiny body. The stagnated blood inside it was proof that this body no longer housed a soul. As she touched its cold face, the fibrous flesh clogged her mind with melancholy. As if a celebration of grief, heavy droplets of rain began to fall upon them. She decided to bury the tiny body. She dug a hole in the earth with a shovel, just big enough to encapsulate an infant. She then laid her the tiny body in the hole and began to cover itwith the mud she had dug out, the rain made it harder but she completed the task. She stood in front of the grave almost as life-less as the one inside. This is when she woke up. She sat up and wonder why she kept getting this particular dream. The fact that she was an only child to her parents made it all the more peculiar. The thought of a little dead baby however, is one that can bring sadness to anyone. Like sunrays that emerge through passing clouds, the thought of her son shone brightly on all the corners of her mind and in a split second the priorities of the thoughts changed. She sat up, sighed and look at the digital wall clock to her left, 10:45 it read. She walked to the land-line and dialled her husband’s number. He picked up at the second ring. “It is me, did you call him?” she asked. “No, he called me, he’s at a friend’s place.” He replied. “Oh! Okay” she responded and after a long pause she added “I had that dream again, with the dead baby”. “Is it? Do you want start speaking to Dr.D'souza again?” he asked. “No!” she replied firmly and added “It’s not that I don’t like Evelyn, I just don’t like physiatrists!” “Okay then, I’ll speak to you when I get back home” he said and hung up. She walked up to the dining table and decide to eat something, the new information about her son had given her a little peace.

12:00 PM

It was time to watch her daily soaps. It is strange how people get addicted to soaps, maybe it’s because for a short time we get to be a part of someone else’s life, we can escape from our world and into another or maybeit’s because of the happy ending it promises. After all, a happy ending is what most of us are after! Seeing someone’s life flow with ease into perfection gives us hope for our own. She walked in and out of the kitchen cooking and watching her soaps.

4:30 PM

Geetha was cleaning the house. She walked around dusting every piece furniture irrespective of the presence of dust. She stood in front of a collection of picture frames, that safeguarded pictures form her life, most of them were pictures of her son. It was a beautiful timeline. One particular picture caught her eye, it was one of her son as a child. She picked it up with her left hand and touched the picture with her right hand. Her lips curved to form a semblance of a smile. She estimated his age to be around two and half when the picture was taken. A scrawny child with the huge grin on his face. She thought about the day she took that picture. It was a Sunday. She had dressed him up in his favourite superman T-shirt and denim shorts and used a bit too much beauty power on his face. She recalled how difficult it was to get him to stand still. Her smile broadened. She kept the picture back and picked up another one, this one was from his first day of school. He looked sad in the picture, she recalled how much he had cried that day and begged her not to leave him. This got her thinking of the time when he never left her side, always running behind her and talking about things that she seldom paid attention to. She looked at a picture that was taken when he was around twelve, it was form their vacation to Manali. He had his hands around her neck in that picture, this one brought a tear to her eye. She then picked up a one from his twelfth grade graduation day. She was proud of how handsome he had become, a tall smart looking boy who was no more scrawny and clad in shorts. ‘I wish there was a more recent picture’, she thought to herself. “I can’t believe he is twenty-one now, time flies so fast” she whispered to herself. She then began to think about how he changed and distanced himself from her. He never talked to her anymore. The only time they spoke was when he needed something or when he was arguing with her. ‘His world now encompassed only of his friends, no room for me anymore’, she pondered with sadness. Her eyes then redirected her thoughts to another picture, one in which he was an infant. This was her favourite picture. Looking at that picture reminded her of the day she gave birth to him. She recalled holding him in her hands for the first time, he was a whole that was a part of her. For every woman, her first child is always special. When a woman leaves her house after marriage, she leaves her family, the ones that she is connected to by blood. Although she receives love in her new home from new people, it can never be the same, it can never replace the love she felt before.Blood is probably that one factor that can’t be altered, it is the reason we forgive, forget and understand but above all it teaches us about love, unconditional love. When a child is born this blood-connection is restored in a woman’s life. On a level it connects her to her past, her soul is soothed by that familiar feeling and she finally feels, at home. However, as the child grows it detaches itself, it wants to have a life of its own it doesn’t want to be guided, rather it wants to find its own way. This not something bad but what it does is, it leaves the mother alienated yet again. It leaves her searching for love. This is exactly what had happened to Geetha. She kept the picture back and thought to herself, ‘Whatever happens he will always be my son, I will always love him, even if he doesn’t love me. I am going to change the way I behave with him, I am going to try and understand what he is going through. I will give him the space and respect he demands. I will salvage our relationship.’ she took a deep breath and smile to herself and felt a renewed zeal.

7:17 PM

The doorbell rang. Geetha ran to it and opened it quickly, her husband had arrived. She couldn’t help but be a little disappointed as she was expecting someone else. “How was your day?” she said as he entered. “Fine”, he replied and walked into the bedroom.

8:00 PM

“Dinner is ready.” Geetha said peeking into the bedroom. “Okay” her husband replied. They sat quietly at the dining table. Geetha’s husband served himself and began eating. “Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked. “I will eat after he comes”, she replied. Her husband gave her a stern look and said, “You need to take your tablets, please eat now”. “The tablets make me drowsy, I don’t like them”, she said softly. “But you need them! Please eat!” he said. “I want to talk to him when he comes”, she said. “Okay but eat first”, he said. As she didn’t want to irritate her husband Geetha decided to eat. After the meal her husband place three colourful pills in front of her with a glass of water. “Take these”, he said. She looked up at him, he had a stern look on his face and she knew that if she protested he would not like it, so she gulped them down. In a few minutes she was extremely drowsy. “Go sleep”,he said. “I want to talk to him”, she said. “You can talk to him in the morning”, He said. She sighed and decided to sleep as her body could no longer stay awake. “Make sure he eats”, she said as she went into the bedroom.

8:45 PM

Geetha’s husband stood at the entrance to the bedroom and watched her, an involuntary tear ran down his face. He walked up to her and patted her head, she was fast asleep. He tucked her in and walked into the hall and called Dr.D'souza. She picked up in a few seconds. “Dr.D'souza, hey, this is Geetha’s husband”, he said. “Oh yes, please tell me” she said. “Everything is the same doctor. I called you because she had that dream again, the one about the dead baby.” He said. “I see, is she willing to see me?” she asked. He sighed and said “No doctor” “Hmm..I really can’t do much unless shecomes to see me, how is her memory?” she asked. “The same doctor, she still things our dead son is alive. Her memory refreshes itself every day to that fateful day. I wish I had stopped him from leaving, it was 11:45 PM doctor and I just let him go! It was not an accident! It was my fault! Even my wife’s condition is my fault!” he said with deep sadness. “Please don’t blame yourself, what happened to your son was tragic but it was an accident! Your wife is suffering from post-traumatic stress. The baby she sees in the dream is your son not her brother. Her sub-conscience is aware of the fact but her conscious state is not ready to accept it” she said. “Post-traumatic stress that lasts for six years doctor?” he asked frustrated. “Please be patient, this kind of thing takes time. I have to go now, ensure she takes all her tablets”, she said. “Okay doctor” he said and hung up. He switched off the hall lights and got into bed. He looked up at the sealing and turned to his wife and said softly “Sometimes I wish I had what you have”. He turned to his right switched of the night light and drifted asleep.

Dear reader, pain changes us, alters our perspective of the world. We often device mechanisms to block out pain. We build walls around us in an attempt to protect ourselves but no wall is strong enough. After all no mechanism is fail-safe. What can one do in such a situation? When pain seeps into our soul and destroys every dream, poisons any facade of hopeand when faith seems futile an escape from reality seems like a colourful option.