Masandar - Even though I hate it, short stories

Brother, you are a hero.

He was barely able to hear the faintest moans, but he was still vaguely aware that a warm hand was lightly gripping his arm, and his desire to sleep was overwhelming him. His eyelids seemed as heavy as two large stone mats.

"Brother, I'm sick."

Hearing it this time, his brain woke up a little. Therefore, he immediately recognized that the voice was his wife's.

"I'm sick"

He muttered something more, then tried the light switch at the head of the bed and turned it on. In the faint light, he saw a pale face.

The owner of that face was his wife. He had been with her for nearly 20 years and had given birth to four children. Except for the first fourteen or fifteen days after the birth, she was very quiet and did all the household chores. The woman who looked at him with a frown, who rarely smiled, and who spoke very little was indeed very patient. Therefore, he never thought that he would be so patient with his wife.

"I'm sick"

He muttered again in surprise. He felt his wife's forehead with his hand and suddenly felt a pang of fear. It was because she was so hot. "Ha... she's so hot. How did it happen?" "Yesterday, when it rained, I dragged the water out of the bathtub to fill it, and I don't know if it was because of the rain."

The woman whispered, her eyes lowered as usual. Her face was faintly red from the fever, and her eyelashes were drooping.

"I'm over forty now..... I'll think about it. I'm not young anymore.."

Although he spoke with sincerity, his voice was not as soft as usual. As soon as he spoke, he remembered that there was not even a maid in the house to help him.

His wife said nothing, just glanced at him with pale, tearful eyes.

"At this age, I can't bear this much fatigue anymore."

He lowered his voice and spoke again with kindness. When he and his children went to work or school, his wife was always left alone. He had never thought that he would tire out a woman who was always busy with washing, ironing, cooking, and doing all the work.

"Well... this is a woman's job. A housewife's job. She has to do housework, and I have to do business."

He thought as usual and got up from his bed. He opened the medicine cabinet at the foot of the bed. He remembered that his wife always opened the cabinet and took out all the necessary medicines and ointments. Now that he had to find them on his own, he didn't know which bottle or container to open.

"There are only three paracetamols left. There is a card of Dilcogin in the cardboard box in the right corner, inside the small bottle of Civis."

The woman, as if aware of his difficulty, spoke softly. She washed down the medicine he had given her with water, and then she laid her head back on the pillow.

“I don’t want to get a headache. It’s also a sore throat,” he said, rubbing camphor oil on his ears. As he stared at the tired and exhausted woman, he wondered if if it was Mee Mi that he had just been there, he would have gently applied the warm camphor oil himself. Then, his mind, faster than the wind, immediately went to Mee Mi.

"Maymi," he whispered to himself. Maymi was his lover. The lover he had loved while studying in Tekkathila, Mya Kyun Thar. The big tree, the Inya Lake, and the kankaw trees near the university library knew about him and Maymi. He had intended to be with that lovely girl for the rest of his life, but he was not given the chance. His mother did not agree with the rich girl, a university student, and married her to a girl who had failed the tenth grade three times.

"My son and daughter are rich. They are also educated. It is true that money and education can make people proud. But some people can be careful. He doesn't have that caution. I can see pride overflowing on his face and in his eyes," she explained.

Yes. My mother was really proud. She felt bitter and resentful at the slightest hint of her mother's attitude. She had married a sailor on a foreign ship before him. At that time, her heart ached.

"Even though I don't have a degree, I can get married. I live at my aunt's house without parents, so my face is also young. I need a woman who will respect my son and protect him like the god of the house."

Yes. It is true that his wife respected him, just like my mother said. She had always been a little more relaxed and easygoing since she was a child. He had lost his lover because of his mother, and he wanted to be a daughter-in-law to his mother. He didn’t want to oppose his mother, so he was now against his wife. He knew that even though he had been a lover, he had shown little mercy and kindness on her part. Even though they had been together as sons and wives, he had never said the words “I love you” to this day. Their marriage had been as easy as drinking soup without salt, and it had been a struggle in his heart.

"The rain is almost over"

Although the light had not yet come, he could hear the chirping of birds. Every time at this time, his wife was no longer in bed. She was already working briskly in the kitchen. Along with the sound of the iron pan and the iron, the smell of fried rice, chicken stew, fish paste, bean curd, pickled vegetables, and fried pork would waft into the bedroom. Before getting up, the sons and daughters would inhale the aroma of the food and imagine what their mother had cooked. //

"I can't even cook anymore"

His wife complained. He couldn't get up, but his mind was on the kitchen.

"The children won't be able to buy lunch boxes anymore. They won't be able to afford to buy them."

"Just one day away... just take it easy"

This time, his voice was a little softer. I could hear my lover's usual words, "Mommy doesn't cook rice or curry. Don't think she'll do the laundry or ironing." Then, for the first time, I thought, "Mommy made this arrangement because of all this."

At about half past six, the children woke up. Not finding their mother in the kitchen as usual, they came into the room one by one. They looked around in amazement at their mother, who was wrapped in a large, shaggy blanket, her head tightly tied with a handkerchief.

“Mom, I’m sick.” “I don’t know why I’m sick.” “I’ve never been sick before.”

It seems that her sons and daughters are like her. I wonder if they think of their mother as a hard, hard person. They don't seem to think that she will get sick often. The eldest daughter...

“Mom, what medicine have you taken?” he asked, running to make coffee. His youngest daughter, who was already in fifth grade, sat next to him...

"Dad"

“Mom, are you going to die?” she asked tearfully. The girl asked with a childish heart, but in her head, lightning flashed and thundered, as if it were about to rain.

"There's a fish stew in the cat's house. There's a bowl of raw rice under the blanket. Look after the children, my daughter. I won't buy boiled beans. I won't fry the rice either."

His head couldn't move, but his mouth was still moving. His voice wasn't very loud. It was soft. What would happen if he died, as my daughter said?

He looked at his wife, who was lying there, unable to move her legs or arms, and he was thinking in a daze. The woman who had never said that she wanted to watch a movie, that she liked gold, that she wanted to wear diamond earrings, or that she wanted to ride a car, the woman who would always help him with whatever he wanted when he ate, the woman who had failed the tenth grade three times but who had taught his daughters and sons math until they were in the seventh or eighth grade, if that woman had suddenly disappeared, he would not dare to think about it and would start sweating again.

"Don't worry, Mom. I'm going to cancel school today."

The eldest daughter made her own arrangements. The eldest daughter was over 15 years old and in the ninth grade, so she was already quite independent. She climbed onto the bed and took the two middle-aged and younger children, who were sitting next to their mother, to the kitchen. The rice was cold and unpleasant to eat, but the younger ones said nothing. They ate in silence as soon as they entered, with their small faces. She was walking around, looking around. She had not yet seen the usual hot fried rice and the pot of hot water that smelled of dried herbs on the dining table, so she had to drink a glass of water and come back.

"I gave the kids more money for food. Dad won't be bringing lunch anymore."

The daughter, who was folding the blankets, said, "Okay, daughter... It's okay."

He came back into the room and checked the woman's forehead again. He couldn't do anything else.

“The flesh is dry and hot. I think a doctor will show it to you.” “If it doesn’t get better by the evening, I’ll call Icho,” his wife smiled faintly at him. Icho was a young doctor who lived across the street. He was born to his wife’s cousin, so they were cousins. So if I invited Icho to my house, I didn’t have to pay for the trip. Sometimes, if I was lucky, he would even give me the medicine he had. His wife would also send home-made mango and fish paste to Icho to eat when he was on night duty.

It was almost eight o'clock when he took a shower. When he came out of the bathroom, he didn't see the woman who always offered him a big handkerchief. He didn't see the white long-sleeved shirt that was always ready on the bed, along with the blanket that was spread out and spread out. He opened the wardrobe and pulled out his own shirt, thinking, "I didn't even have to take off my shirt before."

Before leaving the office, I checked the woman's forehead one more time.

"What are you eating today?"

"What did you buy last night?"

"Is it comfortable to stay here..."

"Do your heads hurt a lot?"

I knew it would be nice to say something kind, but I thought about it, but somehow I didn't say anything.

At around 8:30, he hurriedly left the bus station. He was a junior officer, so he didn't have a private office car. There was an office car that was used to pick up and drop off people. He had to get to the top of the road on time.