SHORT STORY: Horizons

Contentment defines the majority of us. “Stay in Kathmandu even if it’s for the delicious water that it

offers”. They say words have a way to stick with you. They form homes in the deepest corners of your

mind library delving in through every corner and gully like that of Patan. Soaked in the rushes of early

morning chores and a routine that gave her an alibi of a long time resident, she strode down the road.

6000 days in the making, she knew that it was time her soul heard of triumph and her heart told tales of

her vigorous scuffle and patience. The deafening noise and the rising fumes dancing in her pupils were

fondly and light hearted when the days were easier to keep account of. Pupils…a funny bunch. A hopeful lot. “Yearn to learn”. She spent her days hoping to make lives better. Education is a must these days and how she had struggled to be the one standing in front of hopeful pupils and ears soaking in……PSSSSSTTTTTT…. the flames went out.

5,999 days of no complaining but there is only so much faith in empathy that one can sustain. Blessed are the outspoken ones who without a care of the world can pour out syllables giving frequencies to tune in.

Mildred! Oh Mildred! A thousand dead wishes like daisies on a grave but it was blasphemous to talk of

the Western culture. Here we could talk only of ashes much like a treasure locked away in her chest in all these days. Grace is a virtue not taught but she knew she had her proficiencies. “Patience is a virtue as well” she would reason in the courthouse where her ego laid drunk in drapes fit for the dread of a Saturday street…so silent that she could hear her screams but patience….is a virtue. She would never do anyone any harm just as she did not expect any in return. Simple equations and rules per se. As she woke up at 4 AM to fetch water from a tap that was twice her height and four times that of her son, one could not complain as the to-be morning skies gave a glimpse of the brightest of moons. She wondered if the planets aligned to give them this view or the water supply authorities secretly dabbled in astrology. Either way, science and reasoning or a solemn mongering, EITHER WAY… we bid away our most alone and honest moments in wishes, regrets, hopes and all the stars that would align in our night sky if we just followed a code of being good. She snuck out of this thought process to find her son conversing with himself imagining of quests and lands to be conquered…for kings are what we portray to a jester’s dreams at bay. It pleased her sight but gone days wouldn’t have been so kind. She knows. Pleasure is a credit we build upon with security as the deposit and your aspirations – the interest. A double entendre or an almost funny conundrum. Either way, she remembered that the skirmish is to be won.

"Loneliness has followed me my whole life, everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There's no escape. I'm God's lonely man."

"Oh for fuck's sake!!! I can swear I have watched this movie for at least a hundred times…no wait…counting this one…it's a hundred three and a half times." Her son exclaimed 8,756 days later. He

always did have a knack for weird details.

On the 5000th day, she remembers clearly with a smile on her face, almost as wide as the embrace she

would offer to anyone in distress … only but in her mind and through words as simple and gentle as it

could get. She wondered of her aspirations or does remembrance form figments of wishful scenarios of

what we hope to have now? She remembers being young and she remembers the reckless days...she

remembers having ideas and she remembers carefree sways of when time didn’t have a ticking voice and a gentle stroll in the tea garden would be a day well spent…and when she looks at her children she sees the quiet desperation that gets to the best of us on uninvited days but she doesn’t look away. Maybe it has to do with the yearlong temperate climate this place had to offer or maybe deep inside she hoped of a day where getting by isn’t the primary trouble you have keeping you awake at nights when you swore you will get the sleep you promised yourself last week. A million souls, a billion dreams, a trillion aspirations and somehow she knew hers would be heard. On her way home, she thought of how she would destroy any evil that would look at the way of her family and swore to avenge any such instance with the wrath of Kali…or was it just a pet name that she used to get teased by back home? She thought to herself “Today I will tell him to make things easier…it’s been a long time due”. However, we tend to forget that kindness lives rent free in a middle class carriage looking forward to a destination as the ride offers nothing but anxiety slowly filling up any voids with quiet desperation. “Hanging on a quiet desperation is the English way” her 20-year-old son would murmur along to a song 9,234 days later but for now she chose to spare her husband the rebuttal of compassion. The mêlée is to be won in good time.

The world talked of placing people on Mars. Oh how they fluttered! Some said everything was about to

end as it neared 2000. Y2K they said while here we were just trying to catch the bug that led to a shared

dial up connection password. LIMITLESS. Boundary less…Effortless…we were to transgress. So many battles were there to choose from but she did not have a care in the world tonight. She had won a long struggle. The kitchen had a set of gas stoves and locked cocked cylinders ready to fire. The time she would save now for the dreams lost a long time before she came home. The dread of kerosene smokes dancing between her and the view outside took a bow now and bid farewell taking a back seat in the audience to marvel at her victory. Applaud maybe…for the smallest of wins makes the best of sleeps….and you know the world will now survive another meteor by miles or you wouldn’t care even if it didn’t. A dinosaur slipped off her shoulders that night.

Her husband opened his eyes knowing the sleep he dreamt of a month ago is not coming tonight as well…”

That’s alright” He smiled to himself, “The clash is to be won"