Another day

I struggled to think of an appropriate title for this post. I am feeling restless, my hands are trembling. Everything is listless and lifeless. But as I wrote yesterday, I returned home to see my daughter to see my dearest wife yet I still do not see the meaning of continuing my life. When I think what has happened to me, I just don't know, in fact nothing has happened to me, there are no reasons to be sad yet I am sad very sad.
I felt the burden of moving a mountain as I readied myself to go to work today. I was worried that colleagues will ask why I was absent on Friday, they will want to talk to me and they will expect response. They will smile and expect smile, they will joke and will expect me to laugh. Simplest things to a common/normal man is a burden for me.
The thoughts of my parents didn't leave me this afternoon. I could see the sad face of my mother and miserable face of my father. I wanted to embrace them and cry, that is another thing that is not possible to do today. I was not very suicidal but kept questioning the meaning of living.
It was not as difficult as I had anticipated but nevertheless it was difficult. The office was silent with only few people around. I was tired and my legs ached to bones. I didn't want to talk to anyone but I had to and I did. I was not very restless throughout the day but towards the end I started feeling nervous, fidgety and restless. I wanted to run away, jump from the windows, run before a speeding vehicle but I did neither of that. I have been through with these feeling and these are really difficult. The worst was when I received an SMS from my cousin saying she wanted to talk to me. I know my parents have requested, begged her to talk to me to persuade me to return. The very thought of returning gives me chills. The idea of being around so many people who know you is something I cannot fathom, the only thing I enjoy in Melbourne is the anonymity, the fact that no-one knows you, whether you shed tears in the train or you run in the streets. So these are the conflicts that I fought throughout the day. I was also feeling dizzy once-in-a-while. Though I constantly thought I should rather die, I didn't feel like dying just remained drowsy with the sedating thoughts of death. I really do not understand what is the point of living when living is just letting the air in and letting it out. Archana says I have to live for her, for our daughter, for my parents and my brother but what can I give them except for pain.
I know my parents might not have eaten properly for weeks nor they might have slept well, probably the pain that I have made them go through is greater than the pain I am enduring. I can understand their agony and because I can understand that, it is more painful.
Today I inquired my superannuation provider about my insurance cover and what if I committed suicide, since I had opted the automatic one I was entitled to one even if I committed suicide that meant that Archana will get roughly 140 thousand Australian dollar. That came as a relief and today I felt bad for the fact that I was still living, I have postponed it every time. I wish with that money and a small saving that we have, she goes to Perth to live closer to her brother. I hope she will be able to buy a single bedroom apartment with that money. Later she can start working and continue living. But the thoughts of my parents won't just go away, as I picked my daughter from school I remembered they used to pick me the same way, my mother would be very worried if she was late by a minute. We (me and my brother) were the entire world for my father. He wouldn't let us go away from his sight, when we wanted to go to our cousins for night stay he wouldn't allow us or be very very reluctant because he wanted us to be around, he wanted to be able to see.
My father cannot walk properly because he had typhoid 11 times and back in those days in his village there were no doctor and they didn't know about typhoid. My grandmother used to tell me that when I was born the first thing my father touched was my feet. He wanted me to have strong legs, he wanted me to walk properly. I vaguely remember the trouble and pain he had gone through when I broke my leg when I was a child. But there are many fathers who have lost children and all of them loved their children the same way like any other father does.
While growing up, one of my greatest ambitions in my life was to give all sorts of happiness to my parents, when I got married I wanted to make my wife happy, when I had a daughter I wanted to be the best father and I am failing in all of them.
Somewhere I feel that with the mercy of God there will come a day when I shall remember these days of pain and say "I had almost killed myself, thank God I didn't." However the prospects are very weak, very very weak indeed.
My cousin will be arriving soon and I know she will try to persuade me to return. I wish I could gather courage to jump before a train rather than returning back to Nepal. Today unlike the days of my youth I cannot say "I can do anything for my parents" and yes I am ashamed of it, too ashamed of it.