'Blindsight'

 The leopard took her away,

Was it a dream or reality-I couldn’t tell

She was like a penny lost at night 

My tears were real- this I could tell

 

These lines have tarried too long in my head. Over the weeks, I have come up with other verses but I have been unable to find the right capper. I am at the end of my tether. I know that I need to occupy my mind with other projects but my mind seems to be in complete disagreement. In one of the many attempts, I have been forcing myself to keep busy and so when my Dad insisted me today to come and clean her room, I agreed.

 

I start by climbing on a ladder and cleaning the bookshelf from the top. Ruth is holding the ladder. She has covered her face with a stole, as she is allergic to dust. 

 

I want Ruth to clean the table instead of simply holding the ladder, but I have been told by Dad to be polite to my sister. Being the youngest one in the family, Ruth gets the free pass to escape all her chores. I don’t resent her but our sibling rivalry has always persisted.

 

Ruth says, “Hurry up, Abby! We have to clean the entire room.”

 

I wanted to say, “Things would be faster if you helped, instead of standing and nagging.”

 

But I take a deep breath and actually say, “I am doing my best. There is too much of dust. To top it all, I have to check if her things are to be kept or donated.”

 

Ruth doesn’t say anything. I hope she cannot sense the air of frustration around me because the whole purpose of my charade is to prove that I can be polite, no matter how annoying she gets.

 

It had been only few minutes since I started, when the electricity is cut. I sigh heavily because now I will have to stay longer. I wanted to go back as soon as possible. I love my family but I don’t want to be around them for long, as they always want to talk. They keep asking me same questions over and over again. I don’t like that even a bit.

 

Hearing my sigh, Ruth let’s out a laugh. I can feel my blood boiling and I angrily say, “What? You find it funny?”

 

Ruth defensively says, “No! I just found it ironic that the moment we make progress towards cleaning, there is a power cut.”

 

I wanted to scream and say, “Did you just say ‘we’?”  Instead, I actually say, “Yes. Ironical, indeed.”

 

There is a long silence. It seems the power is not going to be back anytime soon. I sit down on the top of the ladder. The room is extremely dark but I am sure Ruth knows I sat. 

 

The room used to be her study room. It does not have windows as it was initially planned to be our storage room but her oddity of reading forced us to convert it into her study room. I thank my stars that I decided to come for cleaning on a rather cooler day, otherwise with the power cut, I would have died of the heat.

 

As I am busy with my thoughts, Ruth says, “Abby, why don’t you visit us often? Ever since she passed away, we thought you would stay with us.”

 

I interject, “I have told you multiple times that my job required me to relocate. It all just coincided. My work keeps me busy. In fact, when dad asked me to come clean the room, I had to take leave.”

 

Ruth says, “You don’t even call us.”

 

She pauses expecting a response but I remain silent. She then says, “You know it is no one’s fault. You cannot stay angry forever.”

 

At this, I am compelled to say, “I am just busy. You should, perhaps, go to dad and check what went wrong with the electricity.”

 

She says in a choking voice, “Yes, I will go and check.”

 

She leaves the room. There is very little sunlight that comes through the door as she opens and leaves the room.

 

My mind quickly goes back to the poem that has caused me to have sleepless nights.

 

The leopard took her away,

Was it a dream or reality-I couldn’t tell

She was like a penny lost at night 

My tears were real- this I could tell.

 

We went to the brook to play

Was it a dream or reality- I couldn’t tell

She hugged me before her fight

Her hug was real- this I could tell.

 

My thoughts are interrupted when Ruth comes back into the room. The sunlight is soon dispersed in the darkness as the door closes behind her. She says, “There is a small short circuit here. Dad is trying to fix it. It will take some time. He asked me to wait here with you.”

 

I don’t want to stay with her in a room alone. What can we possibly do? She is too young and naïve to talk to. But continuing with my desperate charade, I reluctantly say, “Ok!”

 

I am afraid, if I try to get down the ladder, it might topple and I might end up staying here even longer with broken bones. Consequently, I am stuck on this ladder with Ruth till the time power comes back.

 

After a long silence, Ruth says, “You know she loved you just as much as you loved her.”

 

I wanted to scream and jump. I just hoped the jump killed me and not just broke my bones. I can do anything to not have this conversation.

 

Ruth continues, “No one could have done things differently. Things took its natural course. She was ailing. She was in pain. It was inevitable. I don’t understand your anger. She would have loved to see us stay as a family. But you left us.”

 

I could feel my face heating up. My façade ends and I scream, “Oh, really? She was selfish enough to die on me. She was my entire world. She wanted us to stay as family, you say? How can we? How can our family ever be complete without Mom? Isn’t she supposed to take care of us? Wasn’t she supposed to wait till you had finished school? Wasn’t she supposed to fulfil her promise to see me succeed as a poet? How are we supposed to live without her? She could have recovered had she not given up hope. Do you know what angers me? I am angry because she gave up hope.”

 

Ruth says in a reassuring tone, “Abby! She loved us. She really wanted to do all that for us. But she was ailing. How could we have asked her to not give up hope and continue to live? She wasn’t selfish, Abby. She didn’t want us to bear the burden of seeing her health deteriorate. Could you have seen her getting frail every day?”

 

I choose to not respond because I am sobbing uncontrollably. I cannot fight these emotions anymore. This is the first time I am crying since my Mom passed away.

 

Ruth continues, “These are difficult times for all of us. Grieving is a part of healing. Staying put as family will help us do better. Dad called you today to clean her room because we know you wouldn’t have visited us otherwise. Dad and I really want you to move back here. We know you had the job offer before Mom had fallen sick. You took it just to get away. To what end, Abby? Does moving away from the only people you have in your family help you heal?”

 

I have no words. I am not on the healing journey at all. Instead, I am miserable. I only moved out because I am the strong one in the family. If Dad and Ruth had seen me break down, they would  have fallen apart.

 

Ruth says, “You are our pillar. But that doesn’t mean you can’t express yourself to us. You can talk to us. You can cry. You can scream. This will only bring us all closer. You will still be our pillar and in fact, a stronger pillar.” 

 

I wipe my tears. I take a deep breath and say, “When did you become all grown up? Last time I saw you, you were fighting with me for brushing your hair little too roughly.” 

 

We both chuckle but soon there is an eerie silence. The dark room and the conversation has resulted into a conundrum of feelings. I cannot think straight. I don’t know if I should move back with Dad and Ruth. I don’t know if I can live in this house without anticipating to see Mom’s face.

 

Having realized that she has successfully cracked the metaphorical wall around me, Ruth says, “What are you working on these days?”

 

I am glad that she is trying to have a conversation and so I pleasantly say, “I am working on a poem. I have some verses in mind but it feels incomplete. I mean, working on the words is a never ending process, but the thought seems incomplete, too.”

 

Ruth’s tone lights up as she says, “Please tell me! I would like to hear it from you before I can read it anywhere else. Please, Abby!”

 

I feel she is still a child. I smile and recite,

“The leopard took her away,

Was it a dream or reality-I couldn’t tell

She was like a penny lost at night 

My tears were real- this I could tell.

 

We went to the brook to play

Was it a dream or reality- I couldn’t tell

She hugged me before her fight

Her hug was real- this I could tell.

 

Everything around us was of clay

Was it a dream or reality- I couldn’t tell

She was nowhere in sight

She was gone for real- this I could tell.”

 

Just then the room is lit by light. I am so glad that Dad managed to fix the problem. For some time, I am blinded by the sudden source of light in the otherwise dark room, yet I look down to locate Ruth. I almost get disbalanced when I see bright light illuminate Mom’s face. Thinking I am deluded, I blink again and I see Ruth smiling at me. She has removed her stole. I smile and say, “Ruth, I have found the perfect end! Come on! Quick! Hold the ladder!”

Ruth holds the ladder firmly and says, “Tell me, Abby! I want to know too!”

 

While getting down, I say,

“To look for her, I let my mind sway

Was it a dream or reality-I couldn’t tell

Perhaps all I needed was a blindsight

She is here for real- this I can tell.”

 

Knowing that I see Mom’s reflection in her, Ruth cannot hold back her tears. I simply get down and hug her. I have so much to say and apologise for, but I think, I will have enough time once I move back here.