Walls and Hurts.
The girl sat at the table, silently kneading the dough which was to be made into bread for the morning meal. Not far away was her parents bedroom, and thru the closed doors she could faintly make out the sounds of arguing. As usual.Nothing new. Nothing interesting in that. Absentmindedly she continued kneading the dough.
A few minutes later she heard heard the door to her parents bedroom open and her fathers voice shout out to her brother.
"Yes Daddy"
"Did you start your work in the yard yet?"
" I thought we were going to do it after breakfast"
"What? why do you want to wait after breakfast? didn't you get enough rest last night that you can't start your work straight away?"
Her fathers loud voice continued but the girl just tuned it out. Her dough was divided into portions by now. Setting out the rolling board she began oiling them and preparing them to fry.
Absentmindedly she flicked away an ant which was crawling on the table. As she watched it run about dazedly in circles she slowly stretched out her foot and squished it with her slipper, a little at a time. A soft Cruunnchh reached her ears and she shuddered. Not that she enjoyed killing bugs. She just felt like it at that moment.
She was so tired of everything. Tired of all the bickering. Tired of all the tension.
Soon breakfast would be ready and the family of four would sit down to the meal. No conversation would be exchanged. No one was in the mood to make conversation anyway with Father sitting there scowling.
Father was a strange man. He was always scowling at home. Rare was the occassion when he would share in a conversation with the family. Usually he just sat there and listened with either a totally disinterested look or a look of discontent.
"Isn't that right Abu? I remember when that happened, dont you?"
The youngest child, a mere 6 years old eagerly tried to include his father in the conversation.
An incredulous stare was all that met the childs gaze.
There was, for some unknown reason, a wall between the father and his family. A wall which he himself set up. A wall which he refused to break down.
Daily life was usually like that. No conversation would pass between them unless necessary. The house was painted bright and gay colors with beautiful furniture and decorations; a totally cheery scene to the outsider, but one only need to be in that house for a few hours before the tension and the chill pierced the skin.
One could say that the family was used to this, but in reality they were not. A heavy burden was in the chest of each of them, unrealized except for those moments when a pang shot thru the heart with the witnessing of something that should have been theirs to enjoy too.
Like what the youngest son felt when he saw his cousin play with his father and get a piggyback ride.
Like what the Eldest daughter felt when she saw her neighbour laughing with his daughter and pinching his cheek.
Like what the wife felt when she saw how cordial and open and loving her brothers were towards there families.
Oh yes it hurt.
But the cause of all of this hurt was oblivious to it; trapped in his own bubble, and turning a blind eye to those who stretched their arms towards him.
A few minutes later she heard heard the door to her parents bedroom open and her fathers voice shout out to her brother.
"Yes Daddy"
"Did you start your work in the yard yet?"
" I thought we were going to do it after breakfast"
"What? why do you want to wait after breakfast? didn't you get enough rest last night that you can't start your work straight away?"
Her fathers loud voice continued but the girl just tuned it out. Her dough was divided into portions by now. Setting out the rolling board she began oiling them and preparing them to fry.
Absentmindedly she flicked away an ant which was crawling on the table. As she watched it run about dazedly in circles she slowly stretched out her foot and squished it with her slipper, a little at a time. A soft Cruunnchh reached her ears and she shuddered. Not that she enjoyed killing bugs. She just felt like it at that moment.
She was so tired of everything. Tired of all the bickering. Tired of all the tension.
Soon breakfast would be ready and the family of four would sit down to the meal. No conversation would be exchanged. No one was in the mood to make conversation anyway with Father sitting there scowling.
Father was a strange man. He was always scowling at home. Rare was the occassion when he would share in a conversation with the family. Usually he just sat there and listened with either a totally disinterested look or a look of discontent.
"Isn't that right Abu? I remember when that happened, dont you?"
The youngest child, a mere 6 years old eagerly tried to include his father in the conversation.
An incredulous stare was all that met the childs gaze.
There was, for some unknown reason, a wall between the father and his family. A wall which he himself set up. A wall which he refused to break down.
Daily life was usually like that. No conversation would pass between them unless necessary. The house was painted bright and gay colors with beautiful furniture and decorations; a totally cheery scene to the outsider, but one only need to be in that house for a few hours before the tension and the chill pierced the skin.
One could say that the family was used to this, but in reality they were not. A heavy burden was in the chest of each of them, unrealized except for those moments when a pang shot thru the heart with the witnessing of something that should have been theirs to enjoy too.
Like what the youngest son felt when he saw his cousin play with his father and get a piggyback ride.
Like what the Eldest daughter felt when she saw her neighbour laughing with his daughter and pinching his cheek.
Like what the wife felt when she saw how cordial and open and loving her brothers were towards there families.
Oh yes it hurt.
But the cause of all of this hurt was oblivious to it; trapped in his own bubble, and turning a blind eye to those who stretched their arms towards him.
2 comments:
You have excellent writing skills
Uncle Kameron
Wow do you think so Uncle Kam? Thanks for stopping by :)
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