Twinkling of stars

So called Family-gatherings II

Still being in a trance, I was sympathesized by young and old.

"Well baby when one door closes another door opens, so keep your hopes high.", said my mother stroking my hair.

"Or you can open the closed door. Thats how doors work.", said my cousin who's 47 and still has no job to call his own.

I looked irritated at his supidity and buried my face in my arms again."Think outside the box my boy. There are better girls than Zendaya.", said my father who was somewhat lost in the crowd of people.

"I don't think inside the box Dad. I don't think outside the box either. I don't even know where the box is practically."

The blood of stupidity ran in our family. Although I've tried to ignore it several times, it caught me that time. I'd have realised it earlier in my schooldays or hosteldays but I really didn't have the brain to analyse things. Thinking of now how I got my job is a different issue regarding favouritism. He was our neighbour quite a few years back and the head doctor of the locality. So obviously if you just fake crying and slam your head against the wall in the manager's office, its enough to give you a job whatever be the cost. Fortunately for me my boss was the head doctor in the locality.

Getting a job in a very respectable hospital is a lot to handle nowadays. Hospitals are, in today's world, a visiting and amusing place. A slight cramp? lets go to the doctor. A headache? Doctors are there. I'm not telling people to stop coming but at least they should understands the needs and other responsibilities of doctors. None of us really likes to spend the whole day writing nonsensical prescriptions in a sprawled handwriting that makes sense to neither us nor the patients except the pharmacists. Talking about other responsiblities, marriage never came my way neither did girls and parents didn't bother about it after my elder brother got married. All his wife ever does is that pretend that she's got a headache and couldn't work and complains a lot. So thats enough to blow your mind for a day. I wonder how they live under the same roof years after years.

Pondering over things like these, I never knew when I was walking in the endless field we've got backdoor. All these things were patches of memories in my mind. They aren't complete but they aren't diminished either. The farmhouse was still there but with the younger version of Uncle Jeremy, the man who used to stay there.

"Hey there", I shouted from a distance to the boy who was feeding the hens and milking the cows. "Hey I'm Atif, you can call me Al. I live in that house there, you see.", I said pointing out. "I was wondering if you knew a man named Jeremy. He used to live here."

He gave me a look that said do-you-even-know-which-year-this-is. "You're the boy my dad never shuts up about?", he asked quite taken aback. "I'm James, Jeremy's my father."

I looked at him like I just fell from heaven. He was so much like Jeremy but I hadn't really noticed. He stood in silence but it was enough for a huge converstaion between us through our eyes. "Dad's doesn't live here anymore. He's gone to Australia to some old age camp.". I nodded breaking the absurdity and tried walking away when my eyes caught something it should've seen all these years.

"Is that...? No c'mon how can it be?"

"Yes it is. Dad told me about you and all your life."

"It's Beezy Blue", I shrieked in joy as I ran towards the brown horse. I ran my fingers through it's mane. For a moment I was oblivious. A child running in joy with it's horse. Maybe it had started raining I thought as huge big drops fell down my cheeks. It was indeed raining and I was crying in joy. Heaven at least had the decency of sharing my joy by producing it's tears - the rain. I found James smiling at me. I smiled back as I rode away .

As I rode, I let my imagination flow with time which I stopped doing for the last ten years. I wanted to shout out to someone out there in this world "I'm coming, your knight in shining armor." I still remember the time when Queen Victoria showed off her new beard and Gandhi turned Michael Jackson. I laughed. History textbooks always brought out the real artist in me.

I roared in laughter at my immature thoughts. Life was too mean to let that happen. An art of drawing without an eraser; that's what I call life.

That day wasn't so cheerful as it was yesterday with people pouring in and using half of our personal belongings. Trashing the whole house; that's the job of guests and strangers. Here in this country side of Ireland, whenever we had a gathering unknown people, strangers, weary traveller, neighbours would drop in for a drink.

"Why do you where the same shirt everyday?",inquired my posh and spoilt the-one-who-usually-gets-drunk-everyday cousin as he stood beside me at the mini bar we had at the corner of the room.

"Well she loves it. The colour black.", I said dreamily.

"Ideal boyfriend.", he said smirking while he turned to watch our neighbour sing a song on the stage.

"Ideal son.", I said smiling while I turned deaf because of the horrid singing.

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