Fear
When I was small, I would wail my lungs out when mom and dad used to go to work everyday. I would drag my babysitter along as far as I could, trying to hold back mom from going to work. I was never a weepy kid, I never cried in nursery school or anything. It was just when I used to be at home, and mom used to be the one who was going out, that I used to cry. I don’t know, it was very basic, raw fear. Fear, of…
As I got older, I got over the crying bit. Folks at home would go to work as usual, and I actually would be glad to have the freedom to do whatever I liked. My parents being in the profession they are in, they often had to work late nights. Come nightfall, and I would start feeling the fear again. I would go up on the terrace at night and wait for mom and dad to come. Then as soon as I used to hear the car turning at the corner, I would rush downstairs, turn off all lights and jump in the bed. Those were the days of 10 o’ clock curfew, you know. Content, that whatever was in my small world then, was safe, I used to nod off to sleep within seconds.
Well times have changed, and I am a young adult. Obviously, one would think that I have gotten over the fear I used to have as a kid- of someone I loved not returning.
Not ‘not returning’, in a virtual, or emotional way- I’m talking about actual, physical not returning. But no. Each time someone close goes out of town, I have this stupid irrational fear that that person is not coming back. I know, sounds silly. Supremely silly. And I’m not one of those ‘dooms- day’ believers. Nor am I a sissy. Still, the fear is absolutely real. Like if feelings could be touched, this would be rock hard. By fear, I don’t mean that I start sweating. But yeah, I get that lump in the pit of my stomach. And of course, I don’t say anything to anybody. Not even to the one who is going out of town. Then I calm myself with a deep breath, and get busy with something else.
But when I don’t hear from the one who is out there after some expected time, it is back. The fear I have had since childhood.
Deep breath…
