Modern Slaves

Coward

Suddenly, I felt a frail hand on mine, belonging to a weak, slim old lady offering her condolences. Pulling my hand away abruptly, I excused myself and stepped outside, needing the solace of the open air. Jithin followed silently, understanding the turmoil brewing within me. We stepped outside, the gate looming before us, its black paint glistening faintly in the morning light. As we crossed the threshold, my eyes caught sight of a poster affixed to the wall nearby. The poster depicted his smiling face, a stark contrast to the somber mood that hung in the air. With a heavy heart, I lingered for a moment, silently paying my respects before continuing on with Jithin by my side.

As we walked, my mind wandered, grappling with the sudden flood of emotions brought on by my brother's death. It seemed surreal, considering I had been numb just moments before. I had convinced myself that nothing mattered, but now I found myself confronting the stark reality of his absence. It had been three long years since we last spoke, and yet, the memory of that day remained vivid in my mind.

Three years ago... the recollection flooded back with surprising clarity. I began my work as a graphic designer when the call came—news of my mother's second husband's passing. It was my brother on the phone, delivering the news. Surprisingly, I felt nothing upon hearing it. While I didn't harbor hatred towards him, I couldn't shake the deep-seated resentment I held towards my mother for remarrying.

I was my mother's child, I was at a distance with my father, Hari was the one who was the closest to my father.

I picked up the call and answered, "Tell me, Sreejith."

"You should come here as soon as possible, Renjith Annan died," that's what we all called him, Annan.

"I don't think I can," I said without any emotion.

"Fuck that, Akhil, come here this instant."

"Why should I?" I retorted, feeling a surge of bitterness. "He isn't related to me."

"Our mom needs us."

"Yeah, if that were true, she would've never married another."

"The fuck are you talking about? She was young when our father died and she needed a companion."

"I won't come." With that, I ended the call.

I packed my bag and went to Bangalore. I only returned after 16 days, after all the ceremonies were finished.

One day, Sreejith visited me. I came home from my design class, and there he was, standing in front of my PG home. He started to raise his voice, but I didn't react. Instead, I took the key from under the mat and opened the door. Suddenly, he shoved me from behind, catching me off guard. I cursed at him with some choice words, telling him he was a pimp for agreeing to stand with mother for her second marriage. In response, he socked me hard on the jaw, and I instinctively returned the blow.