BEYOND BORDERS NOV 17

L I T E R A T U R E | S H O R T S T O R Y
ON MY WAY BACK
HOME
S U D H A K U M A R , S Y D N E Y
Running, running as fast as my little legs could carry me. Bare feet scratching and scraping as it pushed
against the earth raising brown dust. Too hard to see through the chalky haze enveloping me. Suddenly
am in the bazaar meandering and squeezing through tall bodies, the rich fragrance of cinnamon and
nutmeg hitting my nose, the clay and metal pots with intricate patterns arranged in rows and columns,
my feet slow down just a tad…my eyes darting from side to side, my breath coming and going in puffs,
and on its own volition my arm neatly swipes a pot off its stand.
Tucking it under my shirt my feet pick up the speed running, panting, running…I hear him bellowing ‘He
you!’ and screaming “Yallah! Come here!” I keep running, past the sacks of spices, the fresh produce, this
way and that, and the bellows become faint and a smile creeps into my face, ear to ear, as I quickly thro
a glance back! Yesss! And then I hear the muezzin. Prayer time.
Away from the crowded bazaar I spring into the courtyard of my home “Ummmmmiiii”. I hold the pot ou
with an outstretched hand. She freezes. A frown forming on her forehead… lips pursed, hands on hips,
feet apart. My heart is thudding, hand still outstretched and the smile still stuck on my face.. and she as
“What is that?” “It’s for you” I say.
“What- is- that?” “I found it…Umiii” She looks at me a long few seconds. I look away. “Tomorrow you will
return it to where you found it.” “But…” She looks at me with that look, again. “No more. Go eat.”
Dinner done, Abba gets ready for our nightly adventure. Tonight it is ‘Aladdin’s Lamp’. I snuggle into the
crook of his arm Abba telling me the story. I dream with my eyes open, and then drift away slipping into
slumber, breathing deep and quiet. And then a scream.. commotion .. muffled noises .. I wake up .. my
Umiii grabbing me into her bosom… fear in the pit of my stomach, and I see stars! Our ceiling was gone
And then another gigantic jolt! I look around, puffed out, sweating, heart thudding, the same fear at the
pit of my stomach, unable to move, on a bed, covered with a doona, soft light, my eyes dart across the
ceiling, my tongue stuck to my palate, my iphone alarm going off, tears streaming down the sides of my
face… followed by racking sobs. I walk to the kitchen, John is already there, my lunch box packed. My bo
of oats cooking in the microwave. I look at John, his slightly stooped stance and his salt and pepper hair,
as he turns around and in a soft voice “Good Morning Amir! Big day today!”. Marg from the living room
sipping her tea “Yes! big day Amir” with the warmest smile. I sit down with my brekkie.
“Are you nervous?” asks John, surprised.
“A bit” I say.
Marg reaches out and squeezes my hand, John gives me a good pat, and with a wink says “It’s your day
son! Soak it up, live it up.” I get up and gather my world into my arms for the first time. My big day.
Graduation. “And the Dux of the College for the year 2017 is, Amir Abou-Asali’. The hall breaks out in a
thunderous applause!
Three faces smile their biggest smiles with tears streaming down. Tears for what should have been, wha
may have been, and what is. If one gets far enough away, one is on his way back home.
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