The only sound that could be heard in the hall room was the tick-tick of the clock and wooing of the table fan. It kept rotating to and fro, throwing air on to the vacant wooden sofa, the switched off TV, the translucent blue curtains stitched by mother recently; and finally reaching my father who sat on a secluded armchair. He was intently reading the newspaper for the fifth time now. I doubted whether he even realized that I was standing in front of him for the past ten minutes. I decided to leave and right then he looked up at me and said, “A glass of water”.
After finishing his water, he inquired why I kept standing there killing time. “Oh, just say it! Come on”, said my mind to me. But I just couldn’t sum up the courage to tell him what I wanted to. I spoke wobbling, “No, I just…wanted to ask for the newspaper.” Well, I just lied to avoid an hour-long sermon on ‘the importance of utilizing time and seeking knowledge in every way of living’. However, it turned into another session of counseling. He was glad to hear “newspaper”… he went back to the page he was on and spoke with his head hidden behind. “I hope you read this everyday because if you skip one day, you’ll miss out on the details of the stories…and you should read it not just once, but twice! Don’t forget the editorial page and always use a dictionary when you find a difficult word…” “Wow!” I thought, “Why couldn’t I just say that I was observing you getting drowned in the newspaper.”
Well, I never had any ill feeling for my father. He was the breadwinner of the family, the eldest one and the most respected. He was just like every other male head of most families- filled with ageism and paternalism, grumbling over the condition of the country, scornfully criticizing the bureaucracy every other day and always subjugating those whom he nurtured with his lordly love. I had always been obedient and blindly following what he ordered without any complains. But for quite some time I had been getting an unnerving feeling whenever I heard his commands and certain annoyance over his never-ending criticism. Maa said that this was normal at my age. I felt like an insurgent though.
Without wasting much time, I tried to tell him what was going on inside my head all day. I said, “what do you think about pets, Dad?” He glanced over the paper and just looked at me with a frown. Then he went back behind the walls of printed news and said, “Suno, now don’t start with such topics. You know very well what domestic animals are and what wild animals are!” I waited to hear more… but nothing. I just wanted to go grab the newspaper from him and tear it into a hundred pieces! After a while, I gathered more gumption and asked “and what about birds?” Finally, he folded the paper down, straightened himself and spoke up. “Hmm, I hope you know that birds are warm blooded… vertebrates with toothless beaks…” And then he went on giving me facts about the Flamingos, Hummingbirds and woodpeckers.
“No. No! Just ask for what you want”, I told myself. Cutting him off amid, I asked whether he ever had a pet. He stopped startled and paused for a while. “No. I never had.” When I opened half my mouth to speak up again, he got up and shouted, “You waste a lot of time! Just go and do something useful…and don’t forget, domestic animals are profitable to the owner but pets! Pets are just vain!” I wanted to hold him by the shoulders and shake him head to toe to make him feel the fire in me. But I controlled myself… picked the empty glass and left the room.
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I was standing at the balcony when mother came to me with a cup of tea and said “so you couldn’t talk to him... but at least you tried. Don’t be disheartened.” Then she saw the empty little cage and shrieked “Where did the bird go?” Looking above the sky spread far of, I said, “It is a free bird now, mother. One day I will be too.”
-Akansha Tigga
Full-Time Faculty, ELTIS