Nomads

Chapter 2, Pt 1- Eruption

2019- somewhere in Cuttack, Odisha, India…

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, little light from his drawn curtains slightly lit the dark, and smelly room. He took a deep breath and looked to his left, were there was cage of his pet budgerigars by the window. The birds were still asleep.

He sat up, trying to remember the odd dream he had just woken up from. Not being able to remember much of it, he decided not to spend too much of his energy on it. He unplugged his phone from the charger and lay back down, he turned the data connection on and his notification bar flooded with notifications from various apps and text messages from a few people.
He swiped all the notifications away, not wanting to connect to real people so early. He lay back down and opened Instagram, scrolling through his feed and looking at memes to start his day with a light heart. But as he scrolled, he stumbled upon random travel and relationship posts and memes and his heart sank instantly. He kept scrolling but unconscious of what was on the screen, his mind wandered off to the lows, lower than the depths physically impossible by any creature, depths that only the human mind could explore with its demons. He wasn’t reading anymore, just scrolling to keep his fingers busy as his mind skipped from one thought to another, all of them related in some way but the pattern of thoughts being highly sporadic.

After a few moments he got frustrated, turned the screen off, kept the phone aside and stretched, taking deep breaths to suppress his overwhelming anxiety. He felt the need to disappear, the need to suddenly be invisible. Almost no one would know of his existence except a few select people having vague memories of him and his urge to disappear, leaving a mystery behind; to exist in such a land where no one knew of him or his past. He tried to let his thoughts flow in a rhythm and regulated way, like a dam on a swollen river. He needed time, he needed solitude, he needed peace.

“Nasr!”, his mother barged into his room, disrupting his process of taming his emotions.

“Get up already! Why is your room so messy? You never get up early, you are useless, go for the morning Namaz. Why do you have to be like this?” she screamed.

“I’m awake, mom. Please don’t shout in the morning.” He said, trying to remain calm.

“You are never studying, you don’t have any responsibilities, you just live off your father’s money. You are a disappointment to us!” she kept shouting, as he tried to swallow his frustration.

“I wonder why I even gave birth to you.” She said. Her high-pitched voice and loud tone were piercing his ears. Nasr took a deep breath, “you don’t have to say all that everyday for no reason.” He said calmly in a soft voice.

“Oh! So now, I can’t even say you anything!” she continued shouting. “All you ever do is eat, sleep, wander about like loafers, and enjoy our money.”

Hearing this set Nasr off instantly, it felt a sharp pain in his chest, it hurt him, “then why wouldn’t you let me have a part-time job?” he said sternly.

“Why would we? We provide you with everything! What would people think if you did a part-time? Why have you dropped so low?” his mother raged.

“Having a part-time is nothing shameful, Mom. What do you want me to do then? And don’t compare travelling and exploring with wandering around like loafers! How I’m I supposed to live like this?” he snapped.

“Shut up! Just study hard, score good grades and we will provide you…”
“Don’t even say that”, he cut her off sharply, “you will provide me just to remind me that you did that for me, why even raise me if you only had to remind me of everything you did as favors?”

“How dare you say that?! You’re talking back to me. How dare you even behave like that?” his mother shouted.

“Mom, I’m behaving normally. It’s you who barged into my room early in the morning, started shouting for no reason whatsoever and now you won’t stop.” he said irritated and frustrated.

“It’s not your room!” she warned him with wide eyes, “we built this house, and everything is ours!”

“Fine, I get it.” Nasr said as he grabbed his scooter keys, earphones, and his black-green backpack and walked out of the room.

He put on a red cap, plugged the earphones in, opened the playlist, “Gloom”, and, “Numb”, by Linkin Park started playing. He took his scooter out of the garage and sped away from his house, within a few minutes he was on the outskirts of the city, on the Ring Road of Mahanadi, cruising alongside the river with anxiety in his heart; regret, resentment, and sadness in his head.
With angry, loud music playing in his ears, slowly sinking into blue depression. ‘What even is home? Who is home? Where is home?’ his thoughts began to leap- from the desire to run away, to the desire to disappear.