BID ADIEU

Is this world a level playing field?
He sat under the shadow of a pipal tree overlooking the flowing river; his was the age of reason. The age where one rationalise right from wrong, good from evil, relieved from oppressed. Was his father correct or not? Was the question that kept nagging him night and day? Having gone through the newspaper articles and replayed the television clips many times over on the internet, he still couldn’t pin point the reason that prompted his father’s action. He knew he needed to resolve this issue before he set out his feet in the world.
Being the only child he could not discuss the issue with anyone and talking about it in public was taboo. His mother was adamant your father did no wrong, she kept repeating. Felling stuck in a rut, made him delve deeper into his conscious mind for answers. The further he went the murkier it got, and the difference between right and wrong got lost in the middle.
The reality that his father shot himself on live television was gnawing at him. Discussing the topic with relatives was of no help also as they summed up the incident as, he did it for you and only you. Hearing these words agitated him more, rather than the calm he was looking for; and he found himself in the same sticky position as before. He had revived the last few days before the incident, but his father gave no indication of the grave event that was to follow. Although he did not know everything about his father but he was sure of one thing, that his father was never an impulsive man. He had seen his father take decision only after careful planning and deliberations.
The world is a level playing field; everyone gets equal opportunities, his father had repeated this statement so many times that those words became his strength. He felt a calm descending on him; the knots of the brain unraveled and all became clear to him. Gazing at the birds flying over the horizon he understood that his mother and his relatives were correct in their assessment; that his father did the right thing and he did it for him.
His shoulder felt light; as the pressure eased. Tears began to roll down his cheeks he understood the true reason of his father’s actions. Now sitting under the pipal tress he imagined the pain and anguish his father must have had gone through when he noticed that whatever he taught his son was wrong and the real world was separate from books. There is no utopia, nothing is perfect.
He understood that the catalyst was the interview day when his father’s ideals collapsed. Where he got rejected for the post as the vacancies for general quota of junior engineers was filled. He felt bad as he understood that his father died a broken man. People like his father will keep failing as long as society, government and we as people do not change.
He got to his feet, dusted himself; my father’s ideology will live through me.

With his head held high he walked on.

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