“Why Now.......” by Zuhair Abbas
“I was tense and froze there, looking at
the thoroughly befuddled jury. Perspiration
had beaded my forehead giving me a future vision that what is going to happen
was least expected, at least for me, but the look on the faces of the jury, the
black-appareled trial lawyer and the judge who continuously flipped pages from a
book trying to figure out a legal explanation to the case and place his verdict.
Suddenly, the lawyer got up, stepped forward and spoke in his sharp voice by
which I had known where my future lay, “Milord, the matters are opened in
front of you, the evidences clearly speak against the accused and there is no
point in wasting the court’s precious time anymore...” when my lawyer spoke,
“Objection Milord, the accused needs to present more evidences in the
court!” and an old lady barged into the court room wearing a fuchsia sari, her
ginger hair neatly tied into a tight bun and a magenta bindi pasted on her
forehead, completing her attire.
“I would like the lady to please step up to the quad and please
defend the accused” the judge shouted making my uncertainties rise. Would I be
able to overcome the fear of prison, that I’m innocent, still I get this
unfair punishment. My blood ran cold, chills ran down my spine and a tear
quavered from my eye and the window of the courtroom opened with a sudden jerk,
transferring a bracing zephyr through me and my clothes frayed. I couldn’t
help thinking about it; I winked my eye and in the shimmer of its numbness lay
my childhood repudiating to embrace me. Which crime have I commited? Why is my
past reflecting a sinister smudge on my future; a spot which is unable to be
obliterated or wiped. The ticking of the clock told me how much time was left
with me, it was exactly 2:34 in the afternoon, I had two and a half days left
with me. What was I? A body whose soul had departed a few days ago, a comatose
body to be deserted, spiritually dead.
Half of me forced me to realize my guilt and the other half
convinced me that my future is a jigsaw puzzle; I have to assemble it correctly.
My policy of delayed apprehension had crossed the precincts. Why did people turn
deaf ears to me, the only voices I heard now were that of the old lady trying to
assure the judge that she was an eyewitness to the incident and don’t see me
at the scene of the crime while some people from the jury kept on murmuring,
“teenager......parents........discipline............theft.......Merlin’s
beard!” The sun rays glinted on the judge’s desk while a person struggled to
shut the window close so that no more winds entered in. The rays of the sun
shone on me too, but the shine was murky enough to dishearten me further. In
these rays gleamed a statuesque figure, chalked in white limestone, in the form
of a woman standing austerely staring at people.
But how could she even stare, a black blindfold obscured her
eyes, beholding two balanced scales. When a little speck of dust covered my eye,
I tried to wipe it away with a tissue and as my vision tried to clear, I dimly
saw that suddenly the scales were being changed and imbalanced. Was she an angel
who never commited a crime? After all she looked like a human, humans do make
mistakes. Can she claim justice? Does she even know what that is!!!!!!!
Before I had known I felt as though someone had pierced a knife
into me and the pain infiltrated throughout the body. I fainted there and then,
the last of which I saw was my mother heading towards me as I fell, her curls of
charcoal grey, her foggy suit and
the credible expression that her son could have never been wrong. She had raised
him up, known him all her life, how could he be possibly wrong?
When I woke up, I was drenched in perspiration, and beside my bed
kneeled Ma, Neeyta and Sunjeev praying for me. I hold myself responsible for
their current situation although I do not know what the truth about me being
behind these bars is. Life seems to have flicking leafs in a jiffy with no
memoirs of the past, news of the present and no anticipation for the future.
It’s as though I’m on a boat on which I do not have any control over. Why is
my life doing this with me? Why this unfaithfulness? Why now? The rough sheet
spread on the bed had a delinquent feeling to it. It was as though this was my
end, the end of everything. Suddenly, Sunjeev got up and set the curtains aside,
an angelic beam spread throughout the room, I tried to raise my hand to hide my
face, but it was tied to the bed with a tarnished, chilly handcuff. The
craving for independence fell upon me. The time ticked slowly, as though it
wasn’t ready to let go off me, and grudgingly the second hand moved, knowing
that only a miracle was possible now and wanting me to get as much more time as
possible.
Slowly I maneuvered my hand to reach something as to make a noise
to give everyone a gesture that my time hasn’t come yet. Ma looked up and
tried to smile but she didn’t knew I had seen something in her eyes, my
family, Ma, Papa, Neeyta and Sunjeev, smiling, their faces lit up and all of a
sudden rain falling on them showering despair and obscurity. My future was as
clear and banal as bereavement written on an old piece of parchment.
Dreams were the only sanctuary I sought. My only choice to get
out of this wretchedness. I had a faint image of my future, everyone believed in
me except myself and the welcome of a new person in this world after my
departure. Life and hope were far from me and I was stuck in a labyrinth.
Everyone was scattered around and I had to find them and clear
the way. Obstacles stood in each and every path, some still experiencing in what
is much left of my life. I was marooned, to a place whereupon my conceptions
were muted. It was when ma said, “What happened, my boy? What is it that stops
me from being ever proud of you?” and I had to reply regretfully, “My
fate” She replied in a tone by which I knew she was stuck in the middle. Her
psyche, conscience and heart battled for decision which she ultimately had to
make......”
“Here I will have to stop, I can read no more,” spoke Celina,
her voice still quivering. She
closed a dilapidated, old diary dated 1987, and covered it in its black satin.
She sat serenely on a rock near the sea shore experiencing the waves in
succession. A chilly wind blew on which Harsh, Celina’s fiancé stood up from
his seat and covered Celina in a red shawl and asked her in a hoarse voice,
“Who was he?” She replied with a tear rolling down her cheek, “My brother
of whose sister, I’m being conceited of.” She held the diary underarm and
drove off in their civic, leaving behind a memory, why now............