My Astronaut
Photo: Generated by AI
“Twinkle twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are
Up above the world so high
Like e diamond in the sky”
Shahida is singing my son’s favorite lullaby. Her eyes are vacant like a dead soul but facing towards the sky. She is looking for a star and God knows there’s no star on the sky tonight only the dense dark cloud. The whole balcony has been covered by the shadow of the cloud. Shahida my wife is sitting on the floor leaning against the wall, humming the same tune over and over. It has been a routine for her until she falls asleep and I carry her back to the bed. I am standing by the entrance hiding myself from her. I don’t have the courage to face her. One of us has to be sensible and has to take care the other one. So, I am watching her from behind. Soon the pouring starts. The screaming sound of billion water drops falling from the sky blends with the tune of my wife. Something gets into me. I move towards her and hold her right hand. I call her name “Shahida.” My voice is as soft as butter. Shahida looks at me. Her glance sees through my soul.
“Come inside.”I call again.
“I can’t sleep on that bed Raju, where my son isn’t sleeping.” She replied casually.
“Come on now sweet heart. I lost my son I can’t lose my wife too!” my throat shakes.
Suddenly the desert gets flooded. I thought her tears got dried a long ago. She catches the collar of my shirt. She weeps and asks “why? Why did you lose your son? Is it because I am a bad mother? Is it because I couldn’t take care of our son properly? Tell me Raju, tell me.”
“It’s not your fault my love. You tried your best. It was his fate. He was meant to live this long.” I tell her what I have to. But I know only myself, what I buried deep in my heart.
“I kept my house clean and dry every day. I got rid of all the plants from my house. I used mosquito net day and night. How come my baby got bitten then?” Shahida continues to tumble her heart out.
“I know honey I know you tried your best. Maybe it happened in the school or on the way to home, we can never know.” I try my best to comfort her tormented heart. But no matter how hard I try to ease her pain, the burden on my soul grows heavier. I can still see my 6 years old son on the hospital bed with an IV cannula inserted into his tiny hand. I asked him, “is it hurting you baba?” My baba replied with a nod. My heart has been broken since. I know so many people get infected by dengue and still recovers. So, I asked my God the day my son died, “why my son couldn’t recover? Why he had to be one of them who never come back?” He was my only child, the apple of our eyes. He used to tell stories a lot. Sometimes I stopped him by saying I’m too tired. I wish I hadn’t stopped him back then. I wish I heard all his stories. Oh, my heart aches! I take Shahida’s head and hold it against my chest. She is still sobbing like a child.
“I am a helpless father Shahida.” I whisper to her ears. “I don’t know whom to blame for my loss. Should I blame the corruption that is rooted deep into the soil of our country or the pollution that has grown branches all over the sky? Who is responsible for so many losses every year? Why couldn’t I watch my child to grow up? Who will answer my question Shahida?”
The wind is leading the rain drops towards us. We are wet as well as our eyes. Moments pass by. Rain stops gradually. A moon and some starts light up the sky. Shahida still in my arms turns her head to look at the sky.
“Do you remember Raju? Our son always told us he wanted to be an astronaut when he grew up. Do you believe his little soul is flying on the sky now?”
“Not impossible. Allah is the kindest, and our son died innocent. Maybe he has become an astronaut now, just as he always wanted to be, and is flying among the stars in the heaven.”
“He must be really happy don’t you think Raju?”
“I believe he is.”
I see a smile appears on Shahida’s face.
