It Poured

‘I would have shared my knowledge with you, had you a rational mind,’ says the man while fiddling with his rags.

‘Don’t be angry, father. I hate it when you are angry.’

‘Ugh.’

‘Show me your hand. I know what it is,’ says the child, rudely pulling his father’s hand towards him. After a look, he throws it back. ‘Have you been doing push ups again!’ he screams wildly.

‘What else is there to do?’

‘You could have picked more fruits for us. You could have got more firewood. You could have stored water. You could have found me a mother. But the only thing you did was push ups!’

‘Uh. It makes me feel closer to . . .’

‘Don’t say it! Don’t say it! You hardly know what it is.’

‘It is a sense. It saves me from fear, from danger, from failure, from . . . from . . .’

‘If you keep hurting your hands like this, we will die of starvation. Do you know how tiny I am?’

‘You are a boar. Only your brains are tiny.’

‘And you are a monomaniac.’

‘You are myopic.’

‘You are the greatest folly of humankind.’

‘You will spit on the one who has given you everything.’

‘By that creature whom you revere, you are making me mad.’

‘Such a stubborn boy! I don’t think you are my own.’

‘Who else is there?’

‘That only makes me believe.’

‘I have got more fruits than you.’

The man looks heavenwards.

‘Are you calling IT?’

‘Stupid insect, it’s the clouds. There is a storm brewing.’

The boy bends up double, laughing.

‘What are you laughing at, you ass? It can kill you,’ says the father.

‘Why don’t you start doing push ups? It might make the clouds disappear. What imagination?’

‘He must have left his brains in his mother’s womb when he got out.’

The sound of thunder. They shiver.

‘Come on. Let’s go back,’ says the father anxiously.

‘Rain will not kill us. Be reasonable.’

‘What do you know?’

They both start on their way back home.

‘Mmmmm. The fruits are delicious,’ the boy says, licking a peach.

A slap on the head.
‘Stupid boy. Are they to be eaten? Don’t touch even a single one or . . .’

‘Or you will give it to IT.’

‘He doesn’t eat.’

‘Oh! So IT’s a HE.’

‘I will pull my hair. I will drown in this rain. I will kill this boy. I will throw him open like a coconut. I will . . . I will . . .’

‘Anger is bad for health.’

The rain lashes at them. The clouds fill their ears with thunder. The day turns into night in a minute. The man shivers and throws himself on the ground.

‘Father! Get up! Let us go home!’

He doesn't listen. His hands and legs are moving in synchrony. His body touches the ground, then lifts up slowly.

‘Father we will die. Get up!’

Lightening strikes a nearby tree. The boy is amazed. The father is trembling.

‘I ask you for forgiveness. If I have offended you in anyway, please forgive me. I have picked up choicest fruits for you. Please let my son and I live. I bend my head in front of you.’

‘Water doesn’t have ears. YOU are killing us, not the rain.’

‘Shut up!’

‘I don’t want to die because of this stupid man. Get uuuuppppp!!!!’

He pulls his father up. Gets a tight slap on his face.

‘I am saving your life. Don’t hit.’

‘You are ruining my worship. He is angry with us. I must have done something wrong. I had a dream last night.’

‘I dream EVERYDAY!’

The man is aghast. He gives up.
‘My Savior, the Lord of the whole universe, why, why did you give me such a son? He will kill us both because of his stupidity. Forgive his sins. Forgive his innocence; he is just a child.’

‘I am drowning! I am drowning! Save me father.’

‘Let the water reach your throat.’

‘You evil man! Let me survive the flood and I will show you.’

‘Look at him, Savior.’

Another bolt of lightening strikes near them. The earth is steadily filling with water, the man cannot do push ups though he tries to.

‘Had your fun?’ says the father.

‘Father, hold my hand. HOME. HOME.’

‘Stupid insect, your home must be flooded too. Do you have enough brains to think? Climb that tree.’

‘Ugh. Hold me from behind.’

The boy climbs the tree.

‘Come on father. Climb up.’

‘Not on the same tree with you! You are joking.’

‘Such bullheadedness! I’m amazed.’

The father climbs another tree.

They wait for the storm to end. It continues for days and weeks, flooding the earth.

‘I am starving. Father cannot hear me. I will surely die today.’

‘My son is alone and I cannot reach him. The water can drown a ship.’

‘My father.’

‘My son.’

‘I wish we were together.’

‘I wish we were together.’

‘My life has been a waste and so will my death be.’

‘My life has been a waste and so will my death be.’