After a particularly hectic working day, I decided to fix something. I recalled the day’s events. I had started the day admonishing my wife for having misplaced my wallet. Not a good start. To add, the newspaper boy didn’t turn up. As I was leaving for my office, my little girl came to me with her report card and wanted me to sign it. I slapped her in rage and she buried her little face in her palm and ran indoors, sobbing.
I had to stand at the bus stop for an hour before the bus arrived. I reached late.. this invited a stern remark from my senior. All day, the usual stream of papers flowed on my table. I had a break of only five minutes in the afternoon for a cup of tepid tea.
Sense of guilt
The office clock struck six and employees started to leave. For the first time in my life I felt a sense of guilt. I hated myself for neglecting my wife and child.
I packed and trudged out of the office. I reached home and pressed the door bell hard. It failed to ring. I was angry and I began to bang the door with my fist. In the process, I hurt myself. From the other side, my little girl was struggling to open the door. She opened it with a jerk and fell down only to get up with the flexibility of a gymnast.
The room was semi-dark with just a candle in the centre, I could see my wife get up. She went in and turned the main switch on. It fuelled my temper.
“So, it was your trick,” I asked with a scowl.
“ What is the date today ?” she asked.
I had no idea what she was talking about.
She said, “Today is August 18.”
My little girl brought cake and wished me happy birthday. I felt ashamed, and hated myself.