I had a dream today.
I was in a daze. I woke up (in my dream), back home in Goa lying on the white mosaic tiles in the living room. I could feel the cold hard tiles against my skin and bones. So I turned over and looked out of the window. I was a child again, and it was as if nothing had changed. I was looking up at the skylight tiles when I heard it. His bike roared in the distance as I rolled on the floor. It had this distinct sound that set it apart from the rest.
So I ran to the door and opened it before he could reach the driveway. I was at the gate in the next minute, unlocking it and waiting for him. I looked up at the mango tree and this summer’s produce and smiled thinking he would love it too. I could hear the bike get closer and I could feel my heart beating to the rhythm of the engine. Fast.
How could this be?
He was coming back after so long. It didn’t make sense, even in the dream. We were used to him being away for nine months, but nine years? None of it mattered though. All that mattered was that he was around the corner, riding his Hero Honda CD 100. I would see him and all would be forgotten. All that mattered was this −
“…he would be cruising on the rocky road, wearing his striped blue Crocodile t-shirt, black shorts, white kicks and bottle green shades. His face clean shaven and his hair well cropped. His Seiko would reflect the light of the sun making his wrist shine. His face would be straight but without a frown, calm and composed. His lips perfectly curved below his salt and pepper moustache. He would soon be in the driveway. He would soon be home.”
Five minutes passed and then ten. My feet started to burn against the tarred road, so I kept shifting from one foot to the other. Ten more minutes passed. Only now, I could hear the engine fading. The softer it got, the harder I tried to listen. Until I couldn’t hear it anymore. So I walked back to the door, suddenly, 20 years older. The wood on the door had aged and the carving had worn out. Our white walls were covered in moss and the weeds had spread across the balcony. The door was locked and I had no key. Confused and hurting, I turned around, and there it was. His Hero Honda CD 100, still parked in the garage. Rusted and untouched.
It was only just a dream.
Oh, I’m in pieces, it’s tearing me up, but I know
A heart that’s broke is a heart that’s been loved.
You were an angel in the shape of my dad
When I fell down you’d be there holding me up
And when God takes you back we’ll say Hallelujah
Today’s tune – Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran.
Day 8 – 11 May 2017.
358 days to go.
Thanks for listening and if you relate, say hello, please and thank you.