How Shall I Face It

Another day passed in the same way.Or, I 'm sorry, it's about to pass if hasn't yet.What matters? Will tomorrow bring what has faded away a year ago.Eror again; two years ago. This is my room.There on the walls are still the cartoon faces drawn by Arya; my dear; my cute little son.And that day?That nightmarish page of my life?? Can I ever.......
" Look Moly, for God's sake ! DON'T GO,"
" Sorry, I have to."
" Don't take Arya with you."
" I will. I 'm not going to leave him here."

And they were gone.As if never had they been to the house, to the family; to me.It was followed by phone calls , sniffles, requests and retorts ; the very tradition of all Indian families ; but alas ! things got only complicated and nothing else.

Much of the past, no ? Now, I am alone. My mornings , my evenings, my night all I have got for my own.I am neither disturbed by the child's cry, nor am I haunted by the thought that she would burst forth.I can sit, walk ,play,drink and what not? Although if I 'm not working.Or I can simply close my eyes and sleep or at least brood over.But there's one problem that keep me on my ends.It troubles me on every occasion as I close my eyes.That spontaneous flow of salt-water from the closed windows of the mind.The windows are closed .The mind cannot be.
And the problem really matters.Really, isn't it ?