The Big Dream

THE BIG DREAM

 

George wakes up by the same earthquake shake of Mrs. Roy’s hands right at 7-35 a.m. He always hates his mother’s this habit of breaking his morning dream so brutally. He can defeat the mini clock’s loud cry but not his mother’s. Every day he just arrives at the platform of a new dream, while it gets shattered. This last one, he is never able to fulfil.

‘Good morning, Maa.’

“Good morning. Jojo. I shall be more pleased if you kindly call me ‘mom’.” Mrs. Roy remarks.

George replies nothing and moves towards the washroom bearing his heavy eyelids.

Within half an hour he presents himself on the breakfast table in his school uniform.

“Good morning, Baba…umm sorry Dad.”, he greets his father, who is reading The Economic Daily sitting at the corner of the six-seater dinning table .George can’t see anything except his two hirsute wrists behind the news paper.

‘Good morning, you are again late,’ comes Mr. Roy’s usual observation.

The breakfast is already there on the table. A cup of hot black tea is kept in-front-of Mr. Roy, who hasn’t touched it yet. Mrs. Roy sitting upright on a chair is busy to consume the Holywood-Bolywood gossip from the pages of The City Times and sipping her green tea from  time to time .How does Maa can sit so straight! George thinks while struggling hard to show the best etiquette.

“Don’t spoil your hands, Jojo. Use knife and fork. How many times I have to tell this?” Mrs. Roy cries disappointingly.

“But I can’t Mom…I am not comfortable with these stuffs.”George speaks out with reluctance.

“But you must try to get the habit. This is a good manner.” Mrs. Roy exclaims.

“But what’s wrong in it if I eat with my hands?”George asks worried.

“Don’t argue!” comes a stern voice from behind The Economic Daily.

Mr. Roy keeps the paper on the table and looks at George’s eyes.

George looks up at Mr. Roy’s animated eyes for a moment and puts it down immediately.

“Sorry Baba…umm Dad.” he says meekly.

“One day when you will be in abroad, you have to get all these manners. So it’s better to practice it from right now.” Mr. Roy speaks in a feisty tone.

“But why shall I be in abroad, Dad?” George asks confusedly, curving his eye-brows.

“Of course, to pursue your dreams!” Mr. Roy gets surprised with his son’s ignorance.

“My dreams! But I’ve never told you about my dreams.”

“Because I’ve never asked you. But that doesn’t matter. We have lots of dreams for you, Jojo. Don’t you wish to accomplish your parents’ wishes?” Mr. Roy takes a little break and then starts again. “We have sent you to the best English medium school at our town. Only for you I keep two English newspapers. We always try to teach you English manners. Do you know why? So that when you will settle in abroad, you don’t have to face any difficulties.”

“Even we’ve given you an English name.” Mrs. Roy says promptly.

George remains open-mouthed for a while, and then he utters,

“But I never wish to go to a foreign country. I want to live here, Dad. Here, with you and mom.”

“What will you do here at a small town? You can’t achieve your goals, you can’t realize our dreams. We are your parents. We know better what will be the best for you.” Mr. Roy says annoyingly.

“But Dad…”

“Stop! It’s decided. Now go, you are getting late.” Mr. Roy concludes.

The school bus comes at the gate. George picks up his bag and bottle and moves out silently. He rides the bus and goes straight towards the back seat and sits near the window without noticing anyone.

“Can I really go so far all alone? Can I live there without Maa and Baba?” George starts thinking. “But, why not? If others can do then why can’t I? Perhaps Baba is right. I’ve to live my dreams, but my dream … I don’t know what my dream is. I’ve to do it for them.” His stream of consciousness confirms him and he nods his head unknowingly, though not sure enough what he really wants.

The bus stops in-front-of the school gate.