Ananya Dutta

Abstract Drama Others

2  

Ananya Dutta

Abstract Drama Others

Not the Same House

Not the Same House

6 mins
111



It was the paving of Gregor Manor Street, Brixton. Strangely, I had opted for the same avenue once again, this time merely while I was still conscious. The rugged surface ironically felt like it had seldom been trampled upon by someone. Perhaps, I had preferred the way hence. The night was scintillating, but the beauty remained impalpable for me. And bitterly but honestly enough, that was under my foremost anticipation. I wondered if Talsey and Robert were ever bothered by the starlit night sky either every time, or even once when they had traversed down the same subway.


No wonder I couldn’t know it then; I merely feared to not know it evermore for that had already befallen my life, so as it had both Talsey and Robert’s. I looked around for the magnolias. They had often come to my rescue every time I had felt that way. I believed they were there, dancing to the cantabile of the rhapsody merely they comprehended. It was only the darkness of the later evening that derailed my vision of catching a glimpse of them. Ah! how I would have given anything to just behold the white of them amidst the black my mind was being encompassed by. With each step my feet maneuvered undertaking on the rough substratum of the lane, I was convinced that I couldn’t keep up any longer. “Only if Froy Central Park is close by”, I whispered to myself. Certainly with fortune working well for me this time, I did find myself in the vicinity of the park. 


The gate had a tinge of shine on it, and it was all lurid enough for me to conjecture that it had been painted quite lately. I conceived the propinquity of not seeking a bench for I was beyond confident of not finding one as I creaked open the gate, carefully enough to not touch it for long enough. I pulled up the right sleeve of my vest whose velour had precisely worn out to check the time. It displayed twenty three minutes to ten. It was late enough for me to be out, but going back seemed too intractable a task for me to figure out. And I didn’t know how I didn’t want to either until I saw an old man in a heavy velvety cloak whose bottom right wore a brooch that shone bright under the light of the street lamp that had been the park’s since the last couple of years. It read ‘CAPRISE’. He held a book which wore a cover of light golden hue.


That again could be easily figured for how vividly that also shone under the light that was commencing to blink then. I stared at him a little longer. His trousers looked more like salopettes, and weary, so as I could tell as my eyes caught a better picture of them when he stooped to pick up a ping pong ball. He had picked that up for a girl who appeared to be not more than seven to me. He commenced having a word with her, and I knew I was eavesdropping.


Something had made me so transfixed I could barely shake my limbs. It scared the heck out of me as the girl then came to me. She pulled at my pinafore that ran down my waist. I lowered my head and said, “Hello, what is your name dear?” “It is uhhh….I can’t pronounce it. My daddy kept this name for me. I can spell it. It is S-I-L-H-O-UE-T-T-E.”, she squeaked out the letters with a childish intonation. “Ah! That’s a beautiful name. You’re a lucky girl. What bothered you by the way?”, I finally inquired. “He says ‘I don’t mind your company’.”, Silhouette answered, pointing to the old man at the bench. Before I could ask for more tidbits, she was out of my clasp and already engrossed in her ink blue ping - pong ball. I stepped further towards the bench. There was an inception of mortification I was starting to feel in myself.

“Sir, I didn’t mean to meddle. I apologize for the inconvenience I caused you.”, I composed. “What did you mean it for then, or did you mean it for nothing?”, the old man questioned. “I … ummm…I am … I was” , I babbled, no wonder I didn’t know how to settle his query. “Here, come sit down. Join me. I am often too lonely in this town. I’ll like some company. And don’t bother about my question anymore.”, he said, patting the seat next to him. I had just sat down that he continued, “Do you see that girl?”, not specifying anyone in particular. I pondered over his direction, and figured he was evincing Silhouette. “Oh, Silhouette. Yes, I just acquainted myself with her.”, I responded. “Ah! you did? Me as well. I too acquainted myself with her, only after a time that now seems long enough like an aeon. What did you learn?”, he asked I was beginning to fidget. We were both strangers, and it all seemed too weird to me. I tried digressing which, ironically again, I did to get on the right path. “It was lovely meeting you sir. But it’s difficult for me to understand why you’re asking me about her.” Being entirely indifferent to my bewilderment, he continued saying “I had lived in California before coming to London. I was married twice – cheated the first time, and was cheated upon secondly. I had daughter of mine with my first wife. Ah! how I now recognize how beautiful she was, now that I don’t have her.


The pain pricks the heart not in knowing that she belonged to somebody else after I had abandoned her, but in knowing that she never can belong to me. I can no longer make it up to her. She was the only one my daughter was to have, and God had to summon her to enlighten me with the true essence of life. My daughter, she was Silhouette. This inflicts me – her name. How I can see her all around me but still address her in the past context. Indeed, I lost my stance as a father the day I abandoned her, and I can’t tell if I should heed to it as something fortunate that she never knew me for I can spend some time with her.”


The old man became quiet. His breathed heavily. There was only remorse in his vibe. How he saw his wishes destroyed by none but himself. His words took me back to the memory I had come out of the house escaping. Would Talsey and Robert also feel the same way when they were old? Certainly as ill luck had to have it in my context, I wouldn’t be unaware of their identities. I would know them like I would never like to know myself. And it is hard for me to know if I should hate this fact because I would have to detest them as well, and I would despise to do that too.


Talsey and Robert, would they avert visiting the places I would haunt? I couldn’t tell and didn’t want to. It was a labyrinth for me - a world where both I and my parents would dwell in, and I wouldn’t know which house to go to.


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