Riots and curfews were a common sight in all the cities of Nepal. A country which was once famous for its snow covered mountains, animals of various sizes and species had now turned out to be a land famous for its constant civil clashes. Earlier the large white magnolias flowers and orchids used to wave as the sweet notes of sarangi flowed all over the valley. The Valleys jumped with joy each time it had to echo the notes and tunes. Nowadays the orchids and magnolias keep waiting season after season, year after year for the tune to be heard again, the valleys have to unwillingly echo the bitter sound of guns and slogans. The lush green grass, as it used to be, had now turned fierce red with permanent stains of blood. Goss had often heard people discussing, "Afghans don't have red blood, they eat Living animals, and have themselves become one. May god punish them!"

But looking at the red grass, Goss could not see any different shades of red colours; he found it all to be red, undifferentiated from one another. He kept thinking that what made the adults feel that Afghans don't have red blood.

The green colour of the grass and red of the blood had now become a more common sight of combination of colours, leaving behind even the seven colours of rainbows.

These thoughts often came to Goss's mind while he sat at the window of his house, gazing at the street. His house was not really a well built one but had beautiful windows, made of red wood. Sitting there he always thought if they were made to match with the colour of the streets. He had pity for Nepal and its people, just like other educated teenager boys. He wanted to leave this place, go abroad and live there away from the distress in here. He never thought of helping the people to lead a better life in here, quite unlike his father.

"Why don't you understand my son, people here need your help. They all are in great distress. We need to help the poor, the sufferers." said his father in a tone full of compassion for his own people

"I don't need them, they are not my people. Tell them to help themselves. I will go away on day. Leaving all this behind", were the words Goss replied with bitterness filled in them.

His father never forced him; he used to pray to god to give his only son some heart for the Nepalese. But somehow he was satisfied with his decision to go away. He wanted his son to have a kind heart, but feared that if he was unsuccessful, the violent Nepalese might turn his son on their side, adding a black heart to his heartless body. Filled with tears in his eyes, the Retired General of Nepalese Armed force, lost with a 17 year old boy went back to his study.

He recalled what happened a few years back. His only brother, who was a Gym Trainee, had joined a violent group of young men called, 'The Liberal Nepal' party. One day when Retired General had gone to distribute relief among the people, who became homeless during the civil war, he saw his brother holding his gun, aimed at a homeless woman's head.

"You can't give them food. Let them die. Then only Nepal will become free of outsiders." The gym Trainee shouted looking in the eyes of his brother

Before he could shoot the poor woman, The General, took out his gun, aimed at his brother at without wasting a second he shot. He had a feeling of patriotism in heart at that time, rather than guilt. Even today he said, he wouldn't fear to shoot his own son for the same reason, but the difference is that he would also end up his life following it.

It was Sunday; the Nepalese had called a curfew in Chitwan protesting against some new law. Goss was sitting at the window, not thinking about the condition of Nepal, but about all what happened during the morning. He felt he talked really rudely to his father. He wanted to apologise but also wanted to let it go the way it is going, then only he would get permission to go to London, his dream city. He finally withered off the morning thoughts from his mind.

He gazed at the street in front of him. His school was at walking distance from his city centred house. Usually he is able to see his school from the window but today the shadow of riots and violent Nepalese had covered his home of knowledge and wisdom. All he could see was bamboo sticks and people, either sticks on heads or sticks in hands. He now didn't fear any such violent eruptions; it was a part of daily life. Before he could wander his thoughts further, he saw his mother rushing in towards him.

Her face was red. She held him tightly; he understood it was something damn serious.

"Your father, your father . . ." she said. Then she hugged him and began to cry with all her might.

"Where is he? TELL ME WHERE IS HE?" he shouted.

She took him outside their house. He saw a person lying on a one inch thick bed, struggling for life, waving his hand.

"Goss. My son." Were his father's last three words

Goss ran towards his father but couldn't even have a last look at him.

Four men, wearing black uniform and masks shot him. Blood came out of the dead piece of flesh and covered Goss's face.

"Look at him. He is your DEAD FATHER. You will soon turn DEAD like him if you don't leave Nepal. The other way to live is to JOIN US. JOIN US. We fight for freedom" They took away the body shouting,"Long live Nepal. LONG live Nepal ..."

They dragged the body. Goss's heart burned with fire, as he saw his father's body going away, being dragged. For the rest of his life he could not forget those words said by the black mask guy "He is you DEAD father. He is your DEAD Father"

For the whole day, the whole night he and his mother only cried, cried . . .

She wished that she could only stop her husband from going out of the house that morning. . .

She never told Goss that he went out because of the fight they had during the morning. He went out of the house to pray for Goss in the Sai Baba temple. The whole night, two lined echoed in Goss's ears, "Why don't you understand my son, people here need your help. They all are in great distres" followed by "He is you DEAD father. He is your DEAD Father"

The next day when he woke up, the morning seemed to be as gloomy as the past night. In front of him he could see his mother throwing all her clothes, money and important papers in a big travel bag. She went to the closet and took all Goss's clothes and threw them into the big bag.

"Where are we going mom?"

"We will go away from here. You were right; living here wont give us anything. We will also die one day"

She was not free from the pain they went thought last night. All the strain could be seen in her voice.

Goss, holding his mothers hand, asked her in a soft, caring voice "What did father want me do, what was the only thing he wanted from his only son?"

"He wanted you to help the people here. But definitely not at the cost of your life" his mother replied in a husky voice.

"And deep inside your heart, what do you want?" he asked in a polite voice.

She was left staring at her son, she could not say anything. She turned back and carried on with her packing. She took the passports kept on the TV cabinet, but just as she was going to keep them inside the bag, Goss held her hand and said "Mom I cant defy my fathers wish or your wish. I will stay here. I will help my people. They need me, they are in great distress. I am my father's last hope and I can't let his hope die"

Her eyes were filled with tears, but of joy not distress this time.

"Your father's soul and heart will dwell in you body. From now on he will live through his last hope, he will live thought your heart which is as good as his" she said hugging him and crying.

Many years passed, all changed in Nepal except for a few things.

Goss could still hear those words echoing in his ears "He is Your DEAD father", but Goss had no enmity for those black clad men. His father didn't believe in revenge. He considered revenge to be the cause of distress all around. His mother also accompanies him to places for charity work. He look out of the window, towards the skies to see if there is any white cloud that resembles his father's face. Today, Goss finds peace in helping the poor, giving them food, sharing their loss and not by just sitting at the window of house and having pity at the people of Nepal.

Copyright 2007 Nishant
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