I had a dream.
I was walking on mangal bazzar(patan durbar square) with my little brother.
He was holding my hand while we strolled around the temples. He was tired and he asked me if he could sit on the sideways below the temple to rest. I said ‘ok’ and I left him there and went to the other end where I bought some maize grains to feed the pigeons, then suddenly there was an Earthquake!! Everyone screamed and started running around.
I hurried to my little brother. The temple collapsed.
I saw his little face ‘shocked’ and the crumbles of temple walls falling apart behind him. I ran to him screaming… ‘get away from there’.
And then I woke up. I started looking all around my room… I opened the door and walked to my brothers room. I was too shocked to know it was just a dream.
And later, when I calmed down. I realized..My brother is not 12 years old anymore. He is 21 years old now. And so is my sister, my elder brother, my dad. And they have been away for 6 years now to a foreign country now. Time has flied too fast for me to stop it.
It was a wake up call
It has been so long…yet when I dream, I still see my little brother so small, little and fragile.
I missed the times he was growing and my sister too,even before we were separated because i was too self centred. I missed the times my father was struggling. And I regret all those times I missed.
I have been a fool..fooling with myself, thinking just me, my career, my life but not what was so much important to me..
I wonder if dad meant this when he said ‘In my eyes, you are still very small’.
And I wouldn’t blame him. Everytime he would come back from the army on holidays,he would look too distant…too far..too reluctant to believe.. ‘all of his children have grown up without him..’ and i don’t want to be that way with my family…..
Never let time just fly away. Never let memories just go by.