When the evening comes

June 23, 2017
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The sky, similar to the colorful canvas of an aspiring artist, was a mélange of tangy orange and ruby red. The sun in all its glory, ruled over the horizon and there was not a single solitary cloud to be seen. Swirls of vibrant and vivid colors exploded up above as the day came to a gradual end.

What a magnificent sight to see! The blistering morning heat that had been beating down on us all day began to subside; as the flock of birds ventured home after a daylong scavenger hunt for food; as the sun got off from its mighty throne just to set deep into the bosom of the world beyond. The daily dusk was upon us! The event is almost as intriguing as the name itself. It comes with its own unique aura that can’t possibly be encompassed and perceived otherwise.

The setting of the sun marked the termination of the busy and eventful day. A sense of serenity and tranquility prevails. The hustle and bustle of the streets is reduced to an eerie silence. An anxiety riddled individual who had been entangled in problems and had been over wrought with worries for the past few hours is entranced by the calmness as well. Families reunite at the brink of dusk; hot, steaming cups of tea in their hands as they discuss the happenings of the day. Cheerful children with lopsided smiles squeak shriek and exclaim, excitement reeking from their voices. A feeling of togetherness has been made prominent as the evening approaches in full force.

Evenings are the most prominent part of the day for me. Contrary to what others perceive of it, for me the arrival of the evening serves as a remembrance of something harrowing. White plain walls surround me as I arouse from my restless slumber. My bed sheets white, my desk white and my entire abode as white as fallen snow! This color that embodies purity and piety for others emanates a rather insipid aura for me. My breaths get shallower and fast paced as another bout of excruciating pain rips through my rattled brain. I deserve to be here – in a mental asylum – after all I did kill my own son!

It had been a sunny Saturday afternoon just like any other as I held the hand of my prepubescent son. We had gone to our favorite place in the whole wide world! The frozen lake! Hand in hand, we glided effortlessly over the iced surface of the gigantic water body. So engrossed was I in the festivities that I failed to comprehend the faint crack of the ice beneath my blades. A mere momentary carelessness ended my angel’s life. The ice gave way under him, a look of sheer terror was displayed on his innocent face and his mouth shaped the words ‘help’ as he sank into the bitterly cold pit of darkness. If only I had jumped after him! I should never have taken him to the lake to begin with! Thus as the evening made its arrival, my son’s soul departed from this world!

The shrill sound of a bell shook me out of my rumination. Pure devastation and anger riddled my body and shook me to the core as the bell marked the advent of the setting sun. This is my life now! I don’t live, I merely exist, forlorn forever and guilt ridden for all the years to come.

Right outside her door stood the psychiatrist.

“ Did she go through her daily delusion yet?” he inquired to which the assistant replied “ Yes doctor, as expected she made up a story involving a child’s death at the exact time the sun set.”

“Let us see what story she cooks up tomorrow when the evening comes…” were the doctor’s parting words as he strode away.

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Mona said...
Jun. 28 at 4:47 am
Brilliant Mahnoor keep up your efforts
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