DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.22461#0555
November 28, 1954 jStmala,jan (Eiuie.
THE DEATH OF A SON
■
BY 'MOOSA"
Born and brought up
among some of the rou-
ghest knocks and buffets
of life, we are fatalists
One must bow down be-
fore the bap-hazard whip-
strokes of fate. It may
bo my turn to be lashed
to-day; to morrow it might
be yours. Like the tongbas
we relish, whether the
brew be sweet, sour or
bitter, so also are our
joys and sorrows This
Borrow, too, will be healed
gradually by the salve of
time; it will be faint and
hazy in retrospect. But,
at the moment, it is an
ugly, throbbing wound.
It is fresh and bleeding.
The pain is overwhelming.
For the past few
nights, friends and neigh-
bours came to our house.
They chanted from the
Ramayan^ played card* or
bag chat, keeping up a
night-long vicil against
the gloom of tragedy.
Not many of them offered
actual words of condo-
lence, but, the unaffected
sincerity of their company
consoled us no less. I
caught the glitter of gold
in hximan hearts^ Not
the surface gilding of
black-bordered messages,
but, the solidity of a
genuine sympathy of sim-
ple folks
lonightwe are alone;
it is very quiet in con-
trast My wife has just
sobbed herself to sleep;
her breath still catches
occasionally even in her
slumbers The two child-
n n are lying asleep be-
side her. Theirs is the
perfect resting of innocent
-souls, with no cares nor
anxisties I do not know
what they have accepted
as to the sudden dis-
appearance of their elder
brother. They miss{, him
though. For, ju»t before
dropping off to sleep my
four years old daughter
asked me:
"Daddy, where has
dnjyu gone?" What oo:ld
I answer? A sudden lump
rose in my throat [ hur-
riedly bent down to blow
at the fire, blaming the
smoke for the moisture
in my eyes. The mother
hurst out into another fit
of sobbing. Poor bereaved
soul ! Everything around
reminds her of her lost
son, pours vinegar over
her lacerated heart.
Yes, we lost a son
H>* died just a week ago
to-day. a bud tlm never
bloomed, a butterfly doo-
med as a chrysalis. He
was a darling of a son,
bright for his mere six
.'. Nine
years and with a voice
like, a myn'a. He had fine,
curly hair aud eyes that
glowed like polished black
marble... All are gone now.
I can recall, so viv.idty
that evening, when- the
sickness first seized him.
He had been smauhing ,,p
his stock of walnuts'which
he had hoarded up little'
by little during ■ grass-
cutting or fuel collecting-
trips. I can remember
his puzzling over some of
the nuts that appeared
sound enough, but which'
were completely hollow.
VJ^th great . patience, he
collected all the' kernels
on a fig leaf, until all
the nuts were broken up.
Then he made out shares
for all of us, giving his'
little brother and sister
slightly more than to his
mother and to me. He,
himself took ve.ry' little,
complaining- of - a slight
pain in his throat. Du-
ring the 'night ' he' deve-
loped a slight fever. By
morning his temperature
had soared. . '•
T went over t.o the
z ilcrVa hoine ^nd -fetched-
him ovt. He did what
he could, but,- by 'night-
fall the frver had not
abated. The second night
passed without the boy's
eating a lything. He was
havir g difficulty in swallo-
wing. Next day the z-ikri
was fetched again. We
tried out all the treat-
ments and hrew< sugges-
THE DEATH OF A SON
■
BY 'MOOSA"
Born and brought up
among some of the rou-
ghest knocks and buffets
of life, we are fatalists
One must bow down be-
fore the bap-hazard whip-
strokes of fate. It may
bo my turn to be lashed
to-day; to morrow it might
be yours. Like the tongbas
we relish, whether the
brew be sweet, sour or
bitter, so also are our
joys and sorrows This
Borrow, too, will be healed
gradually by the salve of
time; it will be faint and
hazy in retrospect. But,
at the moment, it is an
ugly, throbbing wound.
It is fresh and bleeding.
The pain is overwhelming.
For the past few
nights, friends and neigh-
bours came to our house.
They chanted from the
Ramayan^ played card* or
bag chat, keeping up a
night-long vicil against
the gloom of tragedy.
Not many of them offered
actual words of condo-
lence, but, the unaffected
sincerity of their company
consoled us no less. I
caught the glitter of gold
in hximan hearts^ Not
the surface gilding of
black-bordered messages,
but, the solidity of a
genuine sympathy of sim-
ple folks
lonightwe are alone;
it is very quiet in con-
trast My wife has just
sobbed herself to sleep;
her breath still catches
occasionally even in her
slumbers The two child-
n n are lying asleep be-
side her. Theirs is the
perfect resting of innocent
-souls, with no cares nor
anxisties I do not know
what they have accepted
as to the sudden dis-
appearance of their elder
brother. They miss{, him
though. For, ju»t before
dropping off to sleep my
four years old daughter
asked me:
"Daddy, where has
dnjyu gone?" What oo:ld
I answer? A sudden lump
rose in my throat [ hur-
riedly bent down to blow
at the fire, blaming the
smoke for the moisture
in my eyes. The mother
hurst out into another fit
of sobbing. Poor bereaved
soul ! Everything around
reminds her of her lost
son, pours vinegar over
her lacerated heart.
Yes, we lost a son
H>* died just a week ago
to-day. a bud tlm never
bloomed, a butterfly doo-
med as a chrysalis. He
was a darling of a son,
bright for his mere six
.'. Nine
years and with a voice
like, a myn'a. He had fine,
curly hair aud eyes that
glowed like polished black
marble... All are gone now.
I can recall, so viv.idty
that evening, when- the
sickness first seized him.
He had been smauhing ,,p
his stock of walnuts'which
he had hoarded up little'
by little during ■ grass-
cutting or fuel collecting-
trips. I can remember
his puzzling over some of
the nuts that appeared
sound enough, but which'
were completely hollow.
VJ^th great . patience, he
collected all the' kernels
on a fig leaf, until all
the nuts were broken up.
Then he made out shares
for all of us, giving his'
little brother and sister
slightly more than to his
mother and to me. He,
himself took ve.ry' little,
complaining- of - a slight
pain in his throat. Du-
ring the 'night ' he' deve-
loped a slight fever. By
morning his temperature
had soared. . '•
T went over t.o the
z ilcrVa hoine ^nd -fetched-
him ovt. He did what
he could, but,- by 'night-
fall the frver had not
abated. The second night
passed without the boy's
eating a lything. He was
havir g difficulty in swallo-
wing. Next day the z-ikri
was fetched again. We
tried out all the treat-
ments and hrew< sugges-