As usual Asahaya left the office, over the Patto bridge along the causeway till Chimbel the place felt like home. Quite often she went a little further parked under the banyan tree where the ferry point was. The ferry point at Panjim was eaten up the casino’s the walk way to casino this was still very much like home.
Of course, drowning was not her aim, her aim was swim, swim till she was tired, so tired that she would sink. people specially people like Padre Gonsalves who call it cowardly act, not to mention the gossiping twitterati calling it selfishness, depending on whether they want to shift the blame, or impress an audience. It might sheer need to vent anger or maybe justify an inability to sympathize with the sufferer. Cowardice has nothing to with suicide actually suicide takes considerable courage. Which is why Japanese have hara-kiri so that one is not selfish enough to demand that another should endure an intolerable existence just to spare families, friends and enemies a bit of soul-searching.
Asahaya sighed moving her toes in the water of Mandovi looking into the mirror this morning she had felt the end of the road, trapped in a cage of loneliness. At 55 beginning life over again was scary. It was less scary to swim to tiredness. After all she had nothing to look forward to. The children had their lives, she done her bit of repaying her parents by ensure the kids turned out grounded and sound. Now that they were flying, they could find new destinations and rest spaces. Of course, there was always a comfort that mother is at home. But they have now their lives in which a mother at home was no longer needed.
The kids’ father was back at the age of 60yrs to the mother at home zone of 6yrs. His life like his six yr. self was occupied with being with his parents his family was complete or rather Lakshmi-Amma’s family was complete with her husband Sampath, and son sitting with her in the evening discussing cricket or her long dead or near dying relatives.
Asahaya was the outsider. A virus that had invaded the comfortable world of Lakshmi Bai and her tranquil family. Asahaya’s husband was confiding to his spiritual mentor that he was worried about Asahaya killing herself… killing oneself of course was a misnomer. People don’t kill themselves; they are simply defeated by the long hard struggle to stay alive. When some dies of cancer or a prolonged illness, the person is approved and a certificate of gallantry is awarded, “He or she fought so hard” but when one realizes that the only function one is doing is breathing, the battle is lost, unlike the epithet that says ‘he or she gave up’ feels like there was no fight involved, this is quite wrong the fight is involved. It is a lot like going to a war you go knowing quite well that the enemy could kill here, unfortunately when the enemy is your own so-called home and battle is lead by your thoughts and emotions it is more exhausting.
Going to a place that requires her to take sedatives to sleep without feeling like something putrid, well that didn’t augur well. Home should be a place where one is free to laugh, love nourish oneself and not a place that feels like prison. it made more sense to swim till she was so tired that she would fall a sleep in the water buoyancy seems so much more comforting.
Drifting away on the Mandovi would be her a way of telling you can’t fire me, I quit.
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