A dove called in my head today. Mother used to tell me this dove thing. I used to talk to my mother a lot. After eating rice at noon, mother would roll over in bed with red lips after drinking. Mother’s small house. Printed sheets on the bed, pillows, red table cloth, drinking utensils on it, calendar of sailing boats on the wall, fresh guava sprigs on the window. Mother could not read but used to ask me to bring the calendar. I would bring
I used to write a lot of letters while studying in college. I used to be a penfriend. Hundreds of letters piled up. Mother would carefully pack the letter and keep it. Sometimes I used to sleep next to my mother after coming from college. I used to open the letter envelope with ease. Sometimes a smile appeared on his face without knowing it. Mother used to notice.
– Who writes you a letter!
-Girls!
All letters are written by girls!
-Boys also write.
-What do girls write to you!
– Writes a lot. All cannot be said.
I can feel the mother getting nervous. I ask mother to give more praise, don’t be afraid, no girl will like me.
– Why not! what a good boy you are
I smile and say, I’m not right.
Who says your head is not right!
I read story books all day. write a letter watch movie I will not be anything like a doctor engineer. Doctor, studying engineering costs a lot of money. Who will pay that money! So no girl will marry me mother.
– I will bring a girl for you.
– Even if you bring it, it won’t stay, it will get scared. Hehehe…
Then mother used to say, dove is calling in your head again.
Yes indeed even today doves call in my head sometimes. I run out of the house when I feel dizzy. Today in the twilight I was walking along Sutherland Road a short distance from home. I have written about this road before. This is the way to make a mind. These days, the sun dips in the west. Suddenly the evening falls. Sutherland Street has a ghostly affair. Moreover, at this time of November, the leaves of the trees have all fallen. As the leaves flutter in the wind, something incorporeal happens all around. Like a ghost, like a ghost. This area is a bit rich people. After evening they are home bar kakchit.
I was driving slowly. It is a thirty kilometer zone. Installation of speeding machine after a while. I was pulled over by a police car on this street a few months ago. I was sure the ticket would be delivered. But the surprise only gave me a warning letter. Repair work is on the road. The machine letter is lying. I’ll go straight up Sutherland to Broadway. Take a left on Broadway to Bay View. The scene came into view when I was returning from the ESSO gas station with coffee. There are no lights on the road. There are no street lights in the neighborhoods here.
I’m in no rush today. In the semi-darkness, I saw a couple slowly walking hand in hand along the walkway. Age would be approximately seventy-five or eighty. Love and peace on the face. The two are talking. Just then, my mother’s face appeared in my mind. At such an age, mother had never walked by the hand of a man. Mother had no partner. A place where husband and wife depend on each other. There was no one to talk to about the mother’s secret pain. Mother lost her husband at a very young age. When I was two. And I am now sixty-four!
Toronto, Canada
