Father

Image collected

I am sleeping, but I can feel my wife is watching over me. I had to squint my eyes to focus on her. She has changed a lot. Maybe because of my situation, maybe because of our situation. She has become so rude and harsh ,sometimes I myself can not understand if I am the one who fell in love with her. I pretend to be asleep. I know she is not going to be silent if she knows I am awake now. Even in the hospital I need to take care of her presumption. But she is exhausted I can see. I want to talk to her, hold her hands and tell her that I love her a lot. Especially her strong perception about feminism. Her persona. I want to adore her hair also. She is the cigarette of my life that I can not quit but surely can die for, at least that is what I know. But I can not move my hands, any parts of my body right now, As if I am a newborn, exploring everything for the first time. The pain inside means nothing now.

Day by day, I am becoming weak. It is getting hard to move, eat anything, smoke and take a walk, complete the office tasks. I guess my time is ending. Even though I want to die, death is playing with me. I am astonished at myself. Is that obvious that every survivor has to surrender once in a lifetime? To whom it should be concerned? To whom I should surrender for my death? I am getting infuriated by my diseases now. I am not giving up but I am tired of fighting, fighting for so long that I guess the fight itself would have given up already.

The freedom fighter club that I have been always referring to, is gone. I am poor now, an impoverished and debilitated patient. The independence I have earned for this country did nothing for me except this catchphrase,

“He is a freedom fighter “

I am choking. I guess my time has come. I am looking for my son. The younger one. As his elder brother is not here right now, I don’t know but I am still checking for him too. I want to say sorry to him for not being the father he always wanted me to be. Where is he? Did he come for me or not? I am choking. I can’t breath. I need air, it is suffocating. I am searching for him. Where is he? Is he coming or not?

My head is spinning around. I am choking. I can’t see anymore. It feels heavy here. I want to call him. But I can not. Looks like someone is entering my room. I guess he has come. I want to hug him, as long as I can. I just want to hug him. I want to hug him like before, the little one. I just want to hug him now.

--

--

--

A Computer Science and Engineering student. Interested in Computer Science, business analytics ,research and editing.

Love podcasts or audiobooks? Learn on the go with our new app.

Recommended from Medium

My Father was a Stranger

For my dying grandpa

The Grandfather Clock

Social Impact Heroes: Why & How Dr Ming Wang Of the Wang Vision Institute Is Helping To Change Our…

Fiction, reality, or paranoia?

The Entitled Male

The Magnitude of the Continuing Need

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Roy Aishwarjyo

Roy Aishwarjyo

A Computer Science and Engineering student. Interested in Computer Science, business analytics ,research and editing.

More from Medium

Their Bead Maze

A Starting Point

Medusa & the Forever Quarantine

A sunny Memory