I don’t remember how I reached my village.
The happiness had surpassed the difficulties of voyage
Down the mending farm road under the scorching sun of June
I found dragging trolley bag with the sound in tune.
As soon as I caught glimpse of my little home,
I couldn’t help but felt the air welcome.
The smell of my childhood wafted up to greet me
A single storeyed-building of stones and mud had worn out.
The CIG roof had faded its luster.
Yet there was that undefined happiness of being home.
I started to sprint toward the facade of my house.
I practically ran toward the door.
It was the moment of real happiness.
But, there was no one to greet me.
Mom and dad weren’t there smiling and greeting me
Yet, I ignored the fact of any surprise
I burst through the front door.
I saw mom bent over the living room
I smiled and let the smile talk
But, she was crying frantically.
As soon as she saw me, she merely dried her eyes with her shirt.
I let my breath out slowly and drew another as deep as my lungs would allow.
She looked up at me and forced a brief smile.
That smile was heart breaking.
It didn’t shine.
It didn’t bring me joys.
My heart clenched for a moment.
Something was really wrong.
There was something wrong.
I could see in that smile.
I could feel that wrongness.
The same fear I’d felt as a child suffocated my senses.
It must be a fight between mom and dad.
She feigned preoccupied cleaning the room.
I looked around and walked toward my room.
Walls were sordid.
A single bulb covered in soot glowed dimly.
I threw my bags on the wooden floor with a thud.
I grew so overwhelmed with what’s happening that I couldn’t express anything at all.
My mind couldn’t register anything.
Mom wiped off my tears and hers.
She gingerly ruffled my hair.
I swiveled and wept.
I could hear her exasperation.
She’d had cried gallon of tears.
Her eyes were puffy with sleep.
Her grey hairs were tied on the nape of her neck.
She slowly pulled herself away.
And she wiped off her tears.
I looked at her with a sign of feeling solace by her comforting words.
Her rosy cheeks of yore had wrinkled.
Her brown eyes were swollen.
I looked at mom with rueful glance and wiped off her tears.
I lay on the floor dreading the thought of what the next couple of days had in store for us.
I was tired of long journey.
Tears whirled up around the corners of my eyes and it blurred my vision.
I stood up and walked toward the window.
The day was clear.
There was trace of hopes of clouds hovering across the mountains.
The lush maize plants were dancing in the light summer breeze.
Even the fractured maize plants rustled in the breeze.
There was a sign of mending the broken family.
The only peach tree had grown old with branches fallen down.
There were hopes and hopelessness sandwiched within the hamburger of my mind.
I jumped onto my bed and lay in prone.
Hot tears rolled down wetting my only thin blanket.
I couldn’t think of being a victim of broken family.
I wasn’t just prepared for the fractured family.
But, now I’m a victim of broken family enduring the emotional pain
I’m bearing the bruising wounds and the psychological scars!!!