And then it began to fall apart… again. It started slowly, it was almost negligible. Who could have thought it could go back to this? It was as if no time had passed.
She walks around the house like the burden of a million generations is on her; as if one wrong decision will lead to an apocalypse. As if the wrathful generations will come flying down from the dark sky and be upon her in a fraction of a second. She lives with this weight, this fear, this guilt, day after day until there’s nothing else propelling her forward.
The air in the house is tense. It’s got the same texture that was present 15years ago. The same sense of helplessness pervades through the nooks and crannies of the house. Everyone breathes in the guilt of not being good enough, of not being able to do enough. No one is spared.
Through it all, there seems to be one person looking down from the heavens, smiling at us, wondering what we will do this time around. Will we writhe in this avalanche, torment ourselves into madness, or let go of our notions of right and wrong, our notions of control and finally grasp a sense of peace?
It’s like he’s saying, “One for the road, Maitreyi…”
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