Swapan Nayak : An Afternoon with My Father

As a child, there was one afternoon that stood out for me, as blue as the sky that eluded my memory.

I recall my father dressing me up, combing my hair and taking me out to a vast field, where two fairies offered me a flower and a ride on their wings. We soared through the blue, surrounded by countless blue moons and floating on the back of a blue fish. I met a talking tree, a butterfly,an oyster, a river, and a bird.Each of them filled my heart with wonder and we returned home, surrounded by the scents of nature.

That one time I went out with my father, outdoor… as out of doors. That outdoor has no inner.

My father passed away in December 2019. With the death of my father, it was not just the objects of everyday life that had changed; even the most ordinary street scenes had become irreplaceable memories of a lost world whose every detail figured in the meaning of the whole.

I catch myself imitating him. This is not because my arms, legs, wrists… or the mole on my back… resemble his. It is something that frightens … terrifies… me and reminds me of my childhood longing to be more like him.Which makes me think that, perhaps, every man’s death begins with the death of his father.

We can express our feelings regarding the world around us either by poetic or by descriptive means. I prefer to express myself metaphorically.