My Son Failed By An Inch : Chapter 8

Old Men Old Habits

As you get older, time means nothing. Because there is less you can do and lesser you need to do. An arm chair and a walking stick are the only material possessions you can brag about and time, it is your ally as it brings back fond memories heals the sour ones and helps you connect to your creator before you meet and thank him for the wonderful years on this planet. But for Santo, time was the fiercest foe; it never let him sit down for a moment and think what he was doing, He had to battle against it to gain fitness and to work on his technique. He wanted to do so many things in so little time as he had to party, go for long drives, pose for magazines, answer the media and in the process, he never spoke to himself. That is what time did. It never game him a chance to speak to himself. Contemplate. Think about his future.

He gradually saw me as an archaic person trying to preach outdated principles from India sitting in an armchair and watching the sun rise and fall into the ocean while he was busy trying to catch up with the merciless pace of a sophisticated world that was far more interesting and happening. I tried to catch up. But time told me I was too late and languid. I had to let Santo choose.

Old Men, Old Habits

My limbs fell weak and sight started to fade. My fingers started feeling numb and my mind hovered around all the unearthly things as I was too anxious to know if I had a place in heaven. I grew tired to make myself a cup of tea. But I lived alone. Solace was the syrup that drove my soul and cranked out those calories and Santo was what burnt them as I spent thinking about his career and discipline.It was a cold evening and the skies turn icy blue when a frigid wave of wing struck past me and the telephone rang. I made sure no gelid bone of mine cracked and picked the phone.

“Hello” I said in a creaky voice.

“Good evening” said a familiar voice that seemed to have shared a large part of my past.

“Alberdo?” I said trying my luck while my insides were freezing.

“Yes my friend. How are you? Been a long time.”
These words of his suddenly provided me some warmth as I could buy some.

“How is your guy doing?”

“Better than good. He carved out a place for himself and seems to reach higher ranks. You of all must know it. You are closer to him than I.”

“Indeed I know. And I am sorry but the news is not all that great.”
I knew he was blunt and quite honest. But I thought he’d spare his old friend and be softer.
My heart stopped beating and I grew colder. Gathering all the hope and courage I had left, I asked Alberdo

“Is there anything you can do to get him out of this? I can find no means to pull him from where he is. Please friend. One last time. Go speak to him. Warn or plead whatever you can do. I can see him fall in front of my eyes.”

“You don’t have to request me. I have already done that and visited him a couple of days back. But he was too arrogant to reason with. Besides, he told you never mentioned me.”

“Yes. I did not want him to think he was being recommended or brought in through influence. So, I decided to keep it buried and told him Liusio watched the clips I sent of him. Now, all that is undone and he is slipping into misery. The worst thing, I have concealed a truth from him. Something I know not how to do away with.”

“Truth? What truth?”

“His mother was murdered an year ago. I hid it from him as I thought it would destroy his career.”

“What? Murdered? Was it resolved?”

“No. It remains a mystery yet.”

“We can feel sorry for the kid but I find it a worthy weapon to use now?”

“What? I don’t think you get it. How..”

“Wait. This is a tough time for him. But his mother will be the only way out. Please think and make the right choice. I know you will.”


“Good night my friend.”

“Hmm. Good night.”

I took to bed but couldn’t sleep. I was staring at Jesus and wondered why he makes it tough as I grow older. A new day no longer brings hope as I was worried and had questions that I had to answer. And God wasn’t ready to bring home a worried man

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