Oedipus

The eternal clock ticked away the silence that soaked the room. He was desperately trying to look away from the disturbing white walls tainted by the yellow of a million smokes. Beside him laid a fully naked night paid in advance with her eyes shut. The curves that made her dissolved into the winter twilight peeking through the window.

It snowed seamlessly outside, memories started to seize the mind with the same lightness.

“Are you afraid of the nights Neel”, chapped lips whispered in his ears.

The boy continued to glare into the darkness, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

“When will Papa come”, he sobbed while the ocean swayed to the music of gentle breeze.

The scrawny arms with veins running like roots wrapped him around as she spoke.

“Should I tell you a story Pa”, she wiped his tears off and pecked on his forehead. “I will tell you the story of how God made the night”

The boy felt warm as he moved in closer to her quivering chest.

“Long, long ago, There were no nights, humans saw each other all the time. They were always tired from praying, So, humans asked God to give them some shade, away from the eyes of Sun".

“Then what happened”, he started to forget the absence of his father.

“God felt bad and cast a shadow on Earth. But poor humans were once again in trouble. Without light the plants started to wither away, no one saw each other anymore, they prayed again shrunk to a corner, afraid of the darkness around them”.

She enveloped him in her sari2 as she continued the story.

“But only this time, God made the time in half and ordered humans to pray during the day and rejoice at nights. Look at the sky Pa” She pointed to a childish moon, that shied behind some clouds.

The oil lamp kept on the floor still whirled to the wind.

He saw two hazy figures that emerged from the darkness wobbling now and then.

Papa had his arms around the shoulder of two mischief-hidden eyes. In the moonlight, he saw the evil lurking behind that sweet smile, and a heaviness he never felt before in his heart to see his father beyond any senses, reeking vomit and sweat.

He saw a tired mom frantically asking him to go inside the house while she tried to support his father from falling. In the background, a nubile figure slowly crawled back to the murk that she came from.

The winds ended their music and started to cry hard. The lamp kept on the floor of the footsteps was snuffed out of nowhere.

He woke up to see the girl getting ready abruptly while he laid in the bed covered in sweat from the nightmare and the mountain of blankets. He noticed that her eyes held the same stories as the lady from the night. He felt cold, a chill that bathed him the same way winds of the long-forgotten memory did.

Somehow, he dragged himself to the bathroom where a mirror echoed hollowly. The same heaviness of the night, a sense of disgust and despise to everything that consumed him. He was no longer able to see the face of childhood anymore, instead, he saw an empty soul that resembled his father.

He remembered Papa blurting and blabbering, “Pebbles, yellows and reds, greens and blues, in the stream of life. All different, but pebbles nonetheless.”

The phone kept ringing. He checked the messages from home.

Mom died yesterday. Mom died alone. No one asked me if I was ready.

1. Pa- Used to call children in a loving manner

2. Sari - A traditional dress worn by Indian women