Cathy's Choice
Time..... a sage of ancient sagacity had always been
merciless in heralding that sudden dis-illussionment,
which can be a heart break, a death or may just
something that man never can take in his stride. He
has never ushered that moment with a prelude, but
man, o! man with his indomitable spirit of hope has
walked on and on. This is paradoxical - that it is not
the hopelessness of man's situation that makes one
cry but the irresistable courage to go on inspite of all
the odds that breaks the heart. The workings of the
heart is a peculiar one to comprehend.... why is it that
there is a faint glitter of smile as if bordering on the
verge of happiness, when someone has just lost
something irreversibly......... may be that is a
resignation or acceptance of human limitations. I, here
on endeavour to recount the minute details of a life
that had goneby infront of my eyes and I could only
watch helplessly, for want of courage, I was silent ....
ha! I am a man. I was tutored the fine art of hypocrisy
and ostensible gentlemanship from when I learnt my
first words. I am a gentle man and I remain silent in my
best manner, whenever I know danger is
approaching. I feel sometimes that manners are
human being's best defense mechanism.
Catherine Malcom D'souza was born to a family that
had seen better days. Cathy, as she was fondly called,
was pale and under weight at birth. The doctor had
given her a one out of ten chance to survive for two
hours. But that little shivering bundle of cloth clung
onto the last vestiges of life as if to that one cord that
she wont let go of, no matter what. And she made it.
Cathy grew up a very beautiful girl, fragile like female
kind, vulnerable yet can muster up enough courage to
keep any one motivated for a life time. Who said
science was modern? Didn't they giver an hour's
chance? Science could not change anything yet.... the
mortality rate is still the same, isn't it? One per person.
Cathy's father was a spirited man in his youth, the
world was full of opportunities and possibilities.
Procrastination was the demon that treaded the path
and caught up with Malcom D'souza. All the
possibilities with which his world was once illumined,
now disappeared like autumn leaves. He died shortly
after Cathy's birth......... no one told me the reason for
sure but plausibly in the court of some courtesan.
And her mother was the ahdesive that binded the
family even after the father's demise. Anne was a
pious woman. She was a good Christian, as good as
the pastor had described Christianity to be. " Forget
and forgive"...... talk about essence and there you
have it. Two thousand years of evolution of this
religion and they sum it up in one single sentence!
Bah! what humbug! Anne was bent on turning Cathy
into a good Christian, mind you "a good Christian."
She was a singer in one of the pubs in town and was
quite popular.
Cathy grew up under the doctrine that I have
mentioned just now. She was now well indoctrined.
But she had one problem............ she had a lot to forget
but none to forgive! Whom would she forgive for all
the miseries that was endowed upon her? She had no
choice.
One day, and idea dawned upon her. Who was her
father? She tried to remember him.... she tried a lot but
to no avail. All these years her father had
masqueraded as her inanimate middle name. A set of
alphabets that do not answer back. She dropped it,
decisively so and stubbed that fire of a question it
was................ WHO WAS AND HOW WAS FATHER
LIKE? Yeah! that was over now. She was just about
anybody now, an average girl next-door. No
obssessions now, no fiery questions and no lingering
name to forgive. She knew it was now alright and
everything would be just as it should be.......
tommorow morning, that is! Human impudence. An
exceptional human impudance.
