The Prison Within

Write Tribe

"The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it." - The Lion King.

Now-a-days, just reaching home in the evening after a hard day’s work, seemed like a precious luxury. He felt a deep sense of satisfaction at having lived a good day. There was a time when evening would bring in more depression and he would seek the bottle desperately. After finishing the bottle, he would lay semi-conscious at his flat, with no one around to help him or to fight with him.

Mohit shuddered at the memory. He didn’t want to visit those days ever again.

The door to his house was open and he walked in. As if by habit, he searched for his daughter Rhea. He couldn’t believe she was seven years old already. The first two years had passed by in bliss. When she was three years old, he had started hitting the bottle, seeking solace from it when he lost his job. His wife Isha had tried to help him morally. She had begged, pleaded and threatened him to give up his drinking habit. He had not listened to her.

From then on the downfall had started. She waited patiently with him for two years – two years of drinking orgies, fights, tears, depression and what not. In sheer desperation, she had handed him a visiting card of someone from a rehabilitation centre and left his home with his daughter. That had been the hardest day of his life and hers too. He remembered her breaking down while leaving. He remembered her saying, ‘I will be back when you will be back, Mohit. I will wait for you to call me.’

When she left with his daughter, he had died a little inside.He shook his head forcibly. Why were all those painful memories bothering him today?

“Papa!” His daughter came running to him and he smiled at her, though he didn’t hug her or pick her up. He maintained a distance from her now. It was painful when he had been separated from her for two years. He couldn’t afford the same pain again. So he stayed aloof though he didn’t like it.

“How was your school today?” He asked her gently as he sat down on the sofa and she came to sit beside him, looking at him with wide expectant eyes and a sweet smile on her face. She showed him a picture. It was a rose, and she had coloured it neatly.

“You did it? It is beautiful.” He said, taking the paper on his hand and looking at it closely.

“Hi.” Isha came from the kitchen, smiling at him. He waved and smiled back at her.

“Rhea, your books are lying on the dining table. How many times have I told you to not to write there? Please keep them in your room.” Isha chided her gently.

“It is comfortable for me to sit and write at the dining table, Mamma. Otherwise, my back hurts.” She said innocently.

“What happened to your old study table?” He asked her.

“One of its legs came off, Pappa.”

He nodded his head but didn’t say anything. The girl got down from the sofa and left for the room.

“Go freshen up. Dinner is ready.” Isha said to him and left for the kitchen.

They were seated at the dining table, having dinner. Rhea constantly kept up the conversation at the table. Hearing her speak about her day at school soothed him. These were just normal pleasures of life that he had missed for almost three years. It was during these times that he felt grateful to Isha. He had indeed acted on her ultimatum and joined the rehab centre. He had struggled for three years, fighting with his addiction and temptation. Only after he was pronounced totally fit, and he had stayed dry for six months at a stretch, had he contacted Isha. It had taken just a phone call and she had returned on the next day with their daughter. It was as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed for him.

“Pappa, there is a parent-teacher meeting this weekend at my school. Every time Mamma comes. Will you come this time?” Out of the blue Rhea threw this question at him. He stopped eating and looked uncomfortably at Isha who was gauging his reaction.

“Hmm.. I have some work to do this weekend. Please take your Mamma with you. May be next time I will come.” He said uncertainly.

“You always say this but you never come to the meeting. My friends ask me why.” Rhea sounded on the edge of tears and Isha could see the beginning of a tantrum.

“Rhea, sweetheart, this time I will come for the meeting. We both will drag Pappa for the next meeting for sure, okay?” She said to the child in a pacifying tone. Rhea wiped a tear and resumed eating.

Mohit looked down on the plate but didn’t eat anything. He had lost his appetite.

The next weekend, when Rhea and Isha returned from the meeting, Mohit had a surprise for them. He had been working on the surprise since four days in his friend’s garage which he used often as his work-shop. He had been coming late from work, going directly to the workshop from his office and finishing his pet project.

Rhea screamed with joy when she saw the beautiful study table and chair that Mohit had made for her out of wood. There was a small circular dent in the table to keep her water-bottle, a drawer for keeping her books and a chair with a stylish back to it.  He smiled, taking in the child’s happiness.

“You like it?” He asked her softly, gesturing her to sit on the chair.

“It is perfect! And so comfortable too! I don’t have to bend a lot while writing now. And I can keep my water bottle here. And..” Mohit beamed with happiness as he heard Rhea go on about all the things that she could do there. He was on cloud nine, having compensated for the grief he had given to Rhea by not attending the meeting.

The child came running to him and hugged him hard. “Thank you Pappa!” He didn’t return the hug. He patted her head awkwardly and said. “Welcome.” She let go of him and looked at him with bright shining eyes. He saw love and respect for him in those eyes. He ruffled her hair and smiled.

In the evening, he peeked into her room and saw her sitting on the study chair and doing her homework. From time to time she ran her hand over the smooth finish of the table and smiled happily. He felt a deep sense of contentment and satisfaction. Rhea’s happiness was his happiness.

“You have given her a beautiful gift.” Isha said to him when she saw him return from Rhea’s room. He sat beside her on the sofa in the living room and smiled shyly.

“You could have brought a new set for her. It must have been hard, creating that wonderful table and chair.” She said with admiration in her voice.

He shrugged. “It wouldn’t have been the same if I had brought a new set. This feels more satisfying.”

He felt her eyes on him and turned to look at her. “What?”

She sighed. “How long will you hold yourself back, Mohit?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You obviously love her. You go out of your way to make her happy. And yet you stay away from her physically and emotionally. Why are you doing this?”

Mohit stared at the floor for sometime before answering. “I guess I still feel impure. It is as if the drinks have stained my soul too. You have seen me at my worst and stood beside me. There is no hiding from you. But Rhea – she was too young to realize what I was. Now she sees that side of me which I show to her. But there has been a part of me that was disgusting. It prevents me from getting attached to her. When you both left, it hurt me deeply.”

“I left because…”

“No, I understand. I don’t blame you. You have tolerated my antics a lot. I have no complaints. It’s just that, I can’t get hurt the same way. I almost lost you both. I can’t afford to lose you again. I am happy that you both are here now with me. But I am afraid to hope too much. I only want to keep you happy, that’s all.”

Isha gulped. It pained her severely to hear this from Mohit. “You are not the same person now. You have changed. You have become a responsible father and husband. We both love you for what you are. Please don’t keep yourself away from us.” Her voice quivered at the end and Mohit shifted close to her to drape his arm around her shoulder.

“What if I fail her, Isha? She looks at me as if I am a champion. What if I destroy her belief?” He asked in a voice laced with grief.

“You won’t. You are the best father in the world, as far as Rhea is concerned. And the best husband too.” She said fiercely, wanting to project her confidence to  him.

He didn’t say anything. He just squeezed her shoulders gently.

It was bed-time and Rhea was watching some songs on Isha’s mobile. Mohit entered the room and sat down beside her on the bed. She looked at him and smiled.

“Would you like me to read a story? I have brought this book for you.” He showed her the story-book.

“Wow, I love stories! Please do read it, Pappa.” She eagerly kept away the mobile and sat beside him.

“Once upon a time…” He began to read slowly. As he went on reading, Rhea shifted and rested her head on his arm. Isha entered the room and saw her daughter trying to get close to Mohit. She watched in silence, waiting for Mohit’s reaction.

He paused reading and fell quiet for few seconds. Then clearing his throat, he lifted up his arm so that Rhea could snuggle up to him. Then he held her close to him and resumed reading.

She sighed in contentment. Her Mohit was now embarking on another road to healing and recovery.