Salil

I think my earliest memory from my childhood is of my parents; of how my father would give my mother silly hairstyles every weekend. I used to wonder how he came up with so many new braiding and combing tricks to make her hair look different each time, but now that I think about it, it might just have been his extremely poor skill in hair management.

For as long as I can remember, my parents have always loved each other immensely. They'd go on dates and spend long hours together. The three of us would often walk around the park late at night and then prepare a random meal which was more often than not, always soup.

So, when my parents decided to separate, it came as a shock to me.

They aren't divorced. And they still don't fight. It's just that they don't live together anymore. Mom lives not too far from here with grandma, and I and dad have been living together for 5 years now. My relationship with either of them hasn't changed much and neither have our lives. Mom comes over once a month for dinner and we sit and eat like any other family. And then like any other family, we go our separate ways.

In my seventeen years of existence, I've never cared about anything strongly, but if I could have just one of my wishes fulfilled, I'd want to know what made my parents fall apart.

I had been lying awake on my bed all this while and then there was the expected knock on my door. I knocked twice on the desk beside my bed in response and heard dad walk away. It has recently become a routine practice for dad to see if I'm up by knocking on my door. I don't mind that. Rather, this might even be one of the most meaningful conversations we have every day.

I decided to not take a shower today. It's just the second day of college, and no one is going to notice anyway. Getting dressed and packing my stuff, I walked out to the kitchen and looked through the fridge to see if we had anything with which I can prepare a decent breakfast. And as expected, there was nothing but a bagel and some cheese.

"Can you bring groceries on your way back from college?" dad asked as he poured two delicious cups of warm water for the both of us. This means- I think, that I'll have to buy him some coffee as well. My father isn't a breakfast person, but the level of carelessness he portrays every morning never ceases to amaze me.

"You can have the bagel if you want " I suggested.

"Oh nonononono," he said and shook his hands vigorously, "Mrs. Yasmeen dropped by a cake yesterday. Have that as breakfast for today."

"cake for breakfast?" I asked with raised eyebrows.

"You're a lucky guy to have cake for breakfast," he said and walked out of the apartment in a hurry.

I chose to eat the entire cake since I'm lucky.

The drive from home to college is never not boring. I mean, agreed that it was just my second day but still, nothing changed about the scenery. The same atmosphere, the same professors who were late exactly 12 minutes, and just like yesterday, today's experience of college was over. I'm a student of journalism. I didn't choose this major because I wish to do something extraordinary or bring change, I'm perfectly fine with the way everything is working out around me, I chose this because journalism had the least seats open, which meant the classes will be quiet and spacious.

So this was my new routine now. Wake up, prepare breakfast, drive my bike to college, do whatever the college asks me to do, drive back home, eat the dinner dad has prepared, sleep, and repeat everything the next day. And sometimes, occasionally, like today, I have to go grocery shopping. It doesn't feel like something is out of hand because the store falls on my way home.

"Don't you have any friends?" I heard a random woman yell from some corner of the store.

I peeked around, not because I thought she was talking to me, but because I needed to see who was being accused of this heinous barbaric crime.

A girl with pink hair was talking to the pregnant cashier. She continued, "I mean, surely someone else can cover for you? Why are you working when you're pregnant?"

"Oh no, it's fine. My husband is taking care of my mother. She has Alzheimer's and doesn't remember me, but she knows who he is. He will come to join me when the nurse arrives, you don't have to worry about me." The cashier replied patiently.

"That's still sad." the pink-haired girl paused a little and then added, "Is it ok if I come over to help you sometime?"

"Oh, you don't need to.."

"No, please. I insist."

After a little more debate they decided on something that I couldn't hear because they were super quiet now. After she was gone, I realized that the cashier was now looking at me because I was standing too close to the counter.

"Are you done shopping?" she asked.

"Yes," I said and rolled my cart toward the counter even though I had not picked up milk yet, but saying that I'm not done yet would be too embarrassing.

"Your name?" She asked without looking up from the screen.

"Salil."

"Oh my God that's brutal," dad said after I told him what happened at the grocery store today. He picked up some Chinese food on his way home since we barely had anything in the fridge. He pointed his chopsticks at me and said, "You didn't offer to help?"

"... I'm sorry ?"

"So you didn't," he said and shook his head in disapproval.

"She said her husband would be there so I thought it was unnecessary. Plus she can hire someone if she wants, it's a big store anyway ." I said, being as reasonable as I could. But dad wasn't convinced and we ate in silence.

When I was walking to the kitchen to do the dishes, he asked, "Do you remember, Austin?"

"Who?"

"Austin. From the fifth standard. He choked on his ice cream when he tried eating it all at once, remember?"

"Dad, why would I remember someone like that?"

"well," he said shrugging his shoulders, "I heard he's in your class. The same major too. Maybe talk to him? You used to be friends."

I've never talked to my father regarding my social life. Because nothing is happening there, and to be completely honest, that has never once bothered me. It's quiet and simple, and I'll keep it like that, but dad doesn't need to know that. So I'll do what I always do, agree with him now and deal with the consequences later.

"I'll see what I can do," I said as I walked back to my room, preparing myself for repeating today, tomorrow.