The sky above was black, as black and
dead as hope and life inside me, with occasional shades of
deep burgundy and red, mirroring the tumultuous feelings,
emotions, and confusions raging inside me… A mysterious
whirlpool, swirling and swirling, sucking me into its
enigmatic and undecipherable depths…
I extend my arms, willing to be
engulfed, with all my sorrows and regrets, to lose myself
in the mammoth sky, the expanse of it layering and hiding
my useless existence…
There is no turning back. No one except
my father would trust my word. He would've killed him with
his own bare hands, but he is not here now, not here
anymore to take me into his warm embrace and tell me that
everything will be all right…or maybe, it IS him,
beckoning to his favourite child from the sky, urging me
to renounce this world of sorrow and pain and follow him…to
be able, once again, to put my head on his knee and fall
into a drugged sleep by his gentle patting of my hair.
Yes, I am plagued by the sky. From my
very first memories, I can remember myself gazing into the
unbounded expanse of it, trying to imagine what really lay
behind that facade of wispy clouds, and the sun playing
hide and seek with them.
He chose well, the barn. Separated from
the hustle bustle of the house, with its open roof, it was
one of my favourite haunts, where I spent many hours doing
soul-searching. The sun had almost sunk, casting a reddish
glow on the earth as I walked into the barn, a warning of
the danger lurking deep within the shadows. Even before my
eyes had adjusted to the darkened environ, he pounced upon
me…My pupils dilated simultaneously as a reaction as
well as defense mechanism, as fear, realisation, and the
full intensity of the situation hit me…
Now the sky seems to have a perilously
dark hue. The first few pangs of anger, pain and
humiliation are gradually dulling as the hopelessness of
it all settles in. I am willing to let go. To fall into
the sky, into that abyss of nothingness, where no loss of
love, respect and honour matters. I am willing to
surrender myself, to fall into a stupor where no pain is
felt. To totally and completely give myself up
But the sky, always the two-faced
Geminian, the apparent grave to my miserable soul first,
now becomes my saviour. As the first few beams of sunlight
fall onto my curled fetal position, the strings of hope
are kindled somewhere deep inside. The relentless attitude
to go on, no matter what, is being uncovered somewhere
deep inside. Yes, it is the sky again, which inures in me
this feeling of endurance, this sense that 'Tomorrow is
another day'. That after every sunset there is a sunrise,
that after every thunderstorm, a rainbow is due. No matter
how bleak a situation is a new sun will rise to purge away
all the fears, resentments, and grievances. The sky makes
me stronger and urges me to go on. It is my mentor. It
teaches me not to lose hope in the face of adversity and
not to be scared of what is to come, rather to face each
challenge with bravery and courage. It instills in my
depreciated soul the moral that each new day brings a new
sun, a new hope, a new life…And as I turn my head from
the hay to look at the peeping sun, is it the light
playing tricks on me or is it my father's kind face
smiling down at me...
