Pervade and Faint

Chapter 30

I was in the living room at eight fifteen, sharp, like the blade of a knife. I took a shower when I woke up (at 7:45). My shirt was still wet and it clung to my chest, almost magnetically.

The door had opened at eight twenty three and expectedly, it was auntie Shama. She held a tray in her hand. She caught a sufficient glimpse of me as she entered in. Therefore, she came to me after putting the tray in the counter, considering it unwise to leave without a greeting.
"You're awake", she said and smiled, affably, to which I nodded and smiled back. I couldn't manage to reflect back a smile. But I could not reply bitter to her sweet.
She sat down beside me, as I gestured.
"Are you okay?" I asked, sympathetically.
She nodded.
"You're not", I said, and the expressions of her face changed.
"What happened last night?" I asked and she quickly turned her neck and looked at the door. She then shifted her gaze to the roof. Her behavior was proving something dreadful. She took a deep breath.
"Amir, I have to tell you. But _ "
"But what", I said, instantaneously. She nervously twisted the small ring which was tightly bounded to her pinky.
"Not right now", she said.
"I have to go to the hospital", she answered. My heartbeat paced at the name of hospital.
"Why is everything okay?" I asked.
Once again, she took a deep breath.
"Nothing is okay", she answered. There was something dissolved in her voice, an immense grief, tense, fear, disappointment. It was also in her eyes.
"Isn't it Sunday?" I asked.
"I have duty on weekdays. But come tomorrow. When your father will leave", she instructed.
"What about uncle _ "
"Don't worry, he won't be home", she assured and left.

Dad entered the kitchen after about half an hour. I forgot all about breakfast. Curiousness formed a blockade in my mind, and to my appetite. Dad warmed the food and both of us ate. (The food went cold by then)
"Dad, don't you drink tea anymore?" I asked. I noticed that I didn't see him drink tea even once, ever since I came from the university.
"Actually, I do, but only on Sundays. Today", he answered and stood up, holding the empty plate.
"Since when?" I asked and smiled.
"Since your mom passed away", he answered and the smile on my face disappeared all of a sudden.
Dad went into the kitchen and made tea. In lieu of putting it in a cup, he poured the tea in a flask and grabbed three Styrofoam cups.
"Where are you going?" I asked, as he gingerly put the flask and cups in a bag.
"To have tea with your mother."
___________

Dad drove while I sat in the passenger seat with the tea in my lap. We reached the graveyard after about twenty minutes. The cemetery was devoid of people (alive). We walked through the twigs and grass. The sun was out, but hidden, somewhere in thick and white nimbus clouds. Mom's grave was beneath the branch of a majestic tree. It provided shade to her grave. Dad sat down, next to her grave and talked to her for a few minutes. A sad feeling bit my heart when I saw dad talking to mom. He talked as if she was right there, although, she was, but not. Dad poured himself a cup of tea, and then a cup for mom. He placed the cup near her grave and drank his tea. Mom's cup was brimful of tea. A tear came running from my eye. And I cried there for a long time.
When destiny curves a man's path, I thought.

As the day grew deeper
Moms sisters dropped by for a condolence. They considered it injudicious to not bestow their sympathies to their sister's son. I felt myself reluctant in meeting them, as the viscous thoughts of Sophia dominated my attention and perceptions. However, I had to sit with them for an hour or so. They told me how much my mom loved me. As if I was unaware. But, I gave them my ears (attention), as I knew that it was against the rules of chivalry to not listen to people (Sophia told me that).

After they left, dad and I sat in the living room for quite a while. I was eagerly waiting to go over for dinner, at auntie Shama's house. I really needed to know what was going on. But there was still time for dinner. A question emanated in the forefront of my brain. And I asked dad.
"Dad, what happened to mom?"
He looked up at me with interrogative and astonished eyes.
"You're asking that now?" he said and narrowed his eyes. I gulped the mixture of fear and guilt down my parched throat.
"When your maternal grandmother passed away, your mother was extremely grief-struck. As a matter of fact, she got admitted in a hospital. As days passed by, she grew more and more apprehensive about you, because you never called...neither did you pick a single call", he said and I looked at the floor, ashamed and guilty. He started again.
"A strange and dreadful sensation or inclination settled in her mind. She thought that you were the one who passed away. Not her mother", said dad and took a deep breath.
"And with that grief, she fell in a devastating coma. Her condition enervated as days passed by. And she gave away her last breath", finished dad. Febrile expressions formed on his face. On hearing his words, a gut wrenching feeling floated in my stomach. I thought that I was going to pass out. But I just writhed with the guilt in my interior.
___________

There was utter silence at dinner, as I had anticipated. The noise of spoons and forks, banging against the plates were to be heard. After dinner, I helped auntie Shama with the dishes. But only with a few, because she didn't let me.
"So, when should I come?" I asked, just to make sure.
"After your father and uncle will leave", she answered and got herself busy with the dishes. I carefully looked at the lines on her face. Auntie Shama was a young woman, and beautiful. But there was a certain tense on her face which stole all of the charms and glee from her. And I wanted to know what it was. I wanted to ameliorate it, to eradicate it,
because it wasn't just harming her. I was also being tarnished, and I knew for sure that somewhere in the world, somewhere, was Sophia. I knew for sure that she was also in the same boat. And she needed us. Me. Similar to how we needed her.