Cathy's Choice | By: Christian Mervyn | | Category: Short Story - Life Bookmark and Share

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

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.

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