Choices

500-Word Micro-fiction

With a coffee mug in his hand, Mohsin is looking outside the window. Although it is about quarter past five in the afternoon, he is still in his pajamas, looking tired and worried.

In this two-room apartment, right in the center of New York suburb, Syosset, Mohsin appears to be agitated as he is now experiencing the trauma and stress of this lockdown.

Mohsin: What this new world will look like? Are we in for a better experience or should we expect worse?

His wife, Almas, in the background, sitting on a couch, reading George Orwell’s 1984, doesn’t seem interested in Mohsin’s dystopian perception of the ‘new world’.

Almas: Can’t say anything. I reckon, we have to wait before we can make any conclusions.

Mohsin and Almas got married almost 9 years ago. They moved to the US just after 6 months of their marriage to pursue their careers in Psychology and Anthropology respectively. Being parents of two boys, they found Syosset to be the most reasonable choice to raise their family and continue their professional endeavors.

Mohsin: Yeah. But still, I feel like, it’s going to be a different world. I mean, different but in a negative sense.

Almas: What make you think so?

Mohsin: I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.

Almas: Yeah. Whatever.

Almas: Have you found a new job?

Mohsin: I applied for a couple of positions. But they’re not hiring. Yet. I’ll get it. Don’t worry.

Almas: If this persists, you have to find a job. Sooner or later, we won’t be able to carry on like this.

Mohsin: You know what? I have a better alternative. Once this is over, what if we move back to our homeland.

Almas: What? Are you okay?

Mohsin: Yeah, I’m alright. I think, that’s the best choice, we have right now.

Almas: You gotta be kidding me. Because you were the one, who forced me to leave our country and come to the States. And it took years, literally years, to settle down here and have this apartment. And now, all of sudden, you’re saying that we should leave this country. And what about kids? Their education?

Mohsin: I don’t know. I just don’t wanna die on a foreign land. Being an immigrant and all that which comes with this label, I’m done with that. I should go back. In fact, we are going back.

Almas: I think, it’s not the right time for this discussion.

Almas stands up to leave the room.

Almas: I presume, I should check on kids. And…you should get some rest. I think, you need it.

Mohsin: Maybe. I don’t know. I’m just feeling alone. Far from my land, fighting with this pandemic, failing to deal with all this uncertainty and fear.

Almas comes towards Mohsin and grabs his hand.

Almas: Listen, hon! I think, you’re just being pessimistic about all this. These are the repercussions of this lockdown. Nothing else. Once this is over, you’ll feel alright. Gather yourself.

Almas leaves his hand and approaches the door of the room.

Mohsin: What if we start fresh, in our own country with our own people. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Almas, without saying anything, closes the door. Mohsin, unbothered by her actions, keeps looking outside the window.