top of page

Sound, Vision, And Time

By Kenlumzailie Michui


Keku has always imagined telling someone!, anyone! about two particular events in her life. However she could never find anyone who would listen to her for that long, surprisingly or not everyone she knew, much like herself doesn’t have much patience. Coincidental? hmmm probably not, she thought. Like most of her days, she was running errands for the house and was crossing the road when she decided in her head – I think it’s best to tell my story to myself. Hmm I think it makes sense. What shall I name her? Kűkhrű? I think it fits. Kűkhrű it is then. She thought that was so clever of her because both Keku and Kükhrü means 'love' but in different dialects of Nagaland. Anyway she was crossing the road to get to the bus stand to get home, she hopped on the bus. Let's romanticize this bus ride a little, let’s take a window seat, ah! I hope it rains, that's what she and her delusion wanted. But as realistic as her life is, she didn’t see any window seat vacant and it wasn't raining then. She sat at the back, put the carry bag of the things she bought for the house down, sighed and leaned her head back against her seat.


Inorder to entertain herself she put on a musical piece and started narrating her story to herself. Let me pretend I don't know myself, I might please life this way, why? I think it’s obsessed with realities, so I’m gonna make it realistic by pretending I am talking to someone else. She began;

Kükhrü I'm going to tell you a secret, the secret is my story, I hope you don't talk as much as our folks do. The story begins somewhere and sometime I can't recall but I'm going to start when I heard someone, somewhere calling me in the distance. It's almost like an echo, but then it's not, it is starting to sound a lot like my dad, yes! That is definitely my dad waking me up. I tried to open my eyes as I responded to my dad calling me, not very successful in the first few tries.


The bus conductor came by to collect the bus fare, Keku handed him a ten rupee note, she closed her eyes, sighed and continued;

I moved my hands around my pillow area and tried to find my phone. I pressed the power button, I couldn't see anything because apparently the sun always decides to shine its brightest in the morning and my phone was on dark mode. I put my head under the blankets and checked the time, it was 7 a.m. already. I replied to a few messages in two minutes then I got up. I washed up, made tea for dad and myself, cooked, had some rice and curry to last me till break, got ready, told dad I'm off to class and I'm out of the house by 8:50 a.m. I got home by 3 p.m.,changed, washed up and made us tea. Dad is usually home by the time or right after I get home, so I either make tea for two or wait till he gets back. I rested for a while and started cooking dinner. We usually have dinner.


The bus stopped and she was disturbed from her flow of thought. She looked out and saw that it wasn’t her stop yet, her stop was only three to four minutes away now, she watched the people get down, the bus moved again, she continued;

Hmmmm where was I? Hmmm oh! So we usually have dinner around 5 p.m. and then we do our own work, me with my college work and him with his office work. By 9 p.m. I hear him watching the news, sports or cartoons, it's always one or the other.

She paused her thinking and looked out the window. It's starting to rain now when she is only a minute away from her stop. She paused her music, packed her phone and earbuds in her sling bag, 'oooh the sound of the rain!' and picked up the carry bag 'was it raining that day? I don’t really remember'. She didn't realize she was thinking out loud until several people looked at her at the same time, she awkwardly smiled it away. She was then breathing unevenly, she tried to even her breadth, she started sweating, she sighed a little bit louder than she intended. The bus stopped, she got down and felt relief getting soaked in the rain because she was still sweating. Is ‘sweating’ relevant on a rainy day in the month of February? I don’t think it is, she thought.


Keku got home, changed, had coffee, and half sat on her bed with the blankets on since it was only 2 p.m. and it was early to get to making dinner. She leaned on her pillow and started talking to Kükhrü again;

Where was I again? Hmmm so I get to bed by the time dad's watching something. I usually am on my phone watching anime or reading or on social media scrolling endlessly until I fall asleep around 11 p.m. Oh! I made tea for dad twice after dinner, I forgot to mention that since it's such a norm and I'm so used to it, I feel like it doesn't need mention. That was what a typical day in my life would look like a few years ago. Years later I start my day by slowly opening my eyes, rummaging around looking for my phone. I always check the time and it’s almost always around 9 a.m. I usually lay in bed for a few more minutes trying to fully wake up and stretch my body to get ready for the day. I get out of bed, wash up and have rice with curry. Brother cooked again today because for me waking up is getting more challenging every passing day. Since I finished the college semester exam, and my result is still awaited I don't have anything to do but to stay in the house. As I was cleaning, my brother said his goodbyes before he was off to run around the offices to finish dad's paperwork, I responded and continued working.



Keku checked her phone and noticed it was already 5 p.m., she went to the kitchen, cooked, had dinner, talked to her mother and siblings and went for a walk. She went around the neighbourhood, bought some snacks and got back home. She put the snacks on the table, washed up, changed into pyjamas and got to bed. Kűkhrű must be bored waiting for me, its 8 p.m already;


As you can already tell all I have been doing for a while now is cleaning the house but even after weeks? Months? I still do not have enough courage in me to clean dad's room. I stayed in bed the whole day again, you see after the chores are done I don't really have anything to do, or anywhere to be. I made dinner by 5 p.m. and had it with my brother and my sister by 6:30 p.m. We pray together sometimes and go to our rooms by 7:30 p.m.We do our own things ; my brother practices hymnal songs, or on the phone on call, watching something or a very few times in social media, my sister usually play mobile games or something to do with phone, and I usually am watching or reading something. I keep switching from watching and reading but I get bored by 1 a.m. So I senselessly scroll through social media trying to distract thoughts and I fall asleep by 3 a.m. The next year my days went by almost in the same fashion. I get out of bed, drink tea, make food, eat, and went about my day. There is one difference though it has been a long time since I had my brother's cooking because he doesn't cook anymore.


Keku stopped narrating as she felt she needed more air to breathe, it wasn’t enough, she drank water, but she continued breathing heavily and she’s sweating again. Am I shivering? trembling? ugh not again, how weak can I get. She wondered whether her constant talks with Kűkhrű was helping her or making it worse. She concluded there must be a certain amount of relief attached to letting things out even to yourself, she checked the time, it was 9;50 p.m., she calmed down and so she went on;


Oh! So why does my brother not cook anymore you say? That’s because one day he just went out of the house like every other day, running errands for the house, mom and every other person but himself, and never came back home. He never said he was actually leaving like that for this place called Heaven. I'm still mad at him for not giving me any hints that he's leaving. I know I'm blaming him for something he never did, like he was supposed to know that he was gonna leave that day, but he will surely understand because I'm his little sister, he knows me like that. Heaven already has my dad and suddenly decided it wants my brother too, like my family is some store house for Heaven keeping. I don't blame anyone though because who wouldn't want a father or a brother like mine? During this time of my life I tried not to stay in the house as much, some days I do but the other days I try to socialize with the community, and make myself as busy and as tired as possible. I come back home, make dinner and eat with my sister, or have the dinner she made. We get to our room and busy ourselves with our phones and go to bed. My nights and mornings however changed drastically, I don't try to wake up anymore because sleep doesn't hold me as warmly as it used to. These days I get awakened by either of these things : nightmares, sleep paralysis, or a phone call. As soon as I open my eyes the first thing I do is check if my sister is breathing, then I check the time it's usually 2, 4, and 6 a.m respectively.


Keku went to the kitchen, made herself coffee, went to the bathroom, put the coffee on her bedside table and pressed the power button in her phone, she saw it’s 11:15 p.m. Oh! 11:15 p.m. She sighed, opened the window, took a big gulp of her coffee, and convinced herself that the trembling was from her strong coffee and the cold cheeks and fisted hands was the cold breeze from the window. She told her head to shut up because she had other things to think about now;


Okay okay so why do I wake up three times? That is probably because my sleeping pattern has become quite fickle. I sleep an hour at most in one go and stay awake every other hour or more, this repeats until I have to get out of bed. I got used to 2 a.m. and 4 a.m., it has become almost the norm but 6 a.m. terrifies me the most. Once in ten times I actually get calls but that still scares the life out of me to wake me up from the first ring itself. Nine other times every morning I hear my phone ringing in my old ringtone. Sometimes it's even 11:15 p.m. but the only difference is that I only feel really tired and need sleep, but could never actually sleep. I think it is partly because of the hypnagogic hallucinations or what one might also call waking dreams. If you're not familiar it is simply having nightmares but you're awake. As I try to fall asleep I can hear myself breathing, I'm so close to sleep but then sometimes I suddenly start hearing my old ringtone and I am wide awake again. The other times I hear dad or brother's voice calling me. It was like that for a while then later on it's the same pattern followed by me staying up with my eyes open to ignore more clearer sounds. Then I started seeing things, mostly distorted faces or shapes of a person sometimes mockingly laughing at me or just staring at me, I never really liked the former one as much. Some of them among the ones that stare at me seem more like they're watching over me and looking out for me more than trying to intimidate me, I liked this bunch more. Among them sometimes I see dad and sometimes brother. Maybe it’s because I think about them too much, or maybe I miss them too much, maybe it's both, that makes more sense because they're almost synonymous with each other. But you know what? I think it is fair of me to miss them.


By the time she finished that Keku’s coffee cup was empty, she looked at her phone screen which lightened up to a notification, she noticed that it was half past midnight, she got up and closed the window, locked her room, turned off the lights and laid down in her bed. But she still feel like letting Kűkhrű know one last bit of the story more.


One thing about Keku is she will always be horrified by the sound of the phone ringing,especially on rainy days, February, December, and some particular hours of the day. It is something she will never warm up to again or rather she can never even opine it as something absolutely normal. And it is not really her fault or her prejudices or anything, it is more the things that happened to her. So it is not that she decided or volunteered to detest it, but it's just that she is traumatized and haunted by it invariably.


Keku decided it’s only fair to let Kűkhrű know the full details of the story;


Before I pretend to fall asleep let me tell you one last thing, take this as an afterward. One February night I got two particular calls consecutively – between 11:15 and 11:30 p.m.– from a friend of my brother’s and my small mom. They informed me that my dad had passed and that I had to stay as strong and as brave as I could to get to our hometown for the funeral. I knew that, still I wanted to fall apart there and never recover. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs until I cannot anymore,then I'll start wailing or just do about anything to make him hear me and call him back or something. But I had a few things to do for dad first, the things he never told me but I heard and silently promised – look out for my little brother who was with me then, pack dad's things, and arrange things for the house here, because he lived here more often. So I held everything back and did what I had to do. The next year during early December at 6 a.m. I was woken up by the sound of my phone ringing again, I was informed that my brother is in the Intensive Care Unit. I did not think anything would happen, in fact I was too shocked to comprehend that the ICU is supposed to be for people in critical conditions only. 11 a.m. the same day I was informed that I needed to pack and mentally prepare to take my brother home for the funeral and burial. I was speechless, I didn't know what to do, in fact I didn't want to know what to do, I didn't even want to know how to breathe then.


By Kenlumzailie Michui



100 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Kainaz

By Deeksha Sindhu It was during the second week of January when the sun shone for the first time that year. As it perched on its throne...

Scattered Memories

By Ankita Tripathi Dearest Lata, I know I’m late in writing my first letter from England. But before I begin, let me ease the weight on...

Commenti

Valutazione 0 stelle su 5.
Non ci sono ancora valutazioni

Aggiungi una valutazione
bottom of page