Every other day starts as if it is just another day. You never know what is going to happen at the end of the day. You wake up normally but everything depends on the turn of the events. There is a condition to everything, whether the previous day ends or it never ends, it goes into eternity. This is said by me and you’ll get to know the meaning. Read it till each fragmented words sinks deep into your sub conscious mind and composes a image there.
So, all the days are same. Before going into the details, I would like to say that everything mentioned in this article bear no resemblance to any person living or dead (if dead, then it wouldn’t have been here), and if it does then its pure co-incidental. Just another day in my life. I never knew I would be so close to lady of my dreams (refer to: Getting familiar with Acme, www.cafe-xpression.blogspot.com) by the time clock would have struck 12 of the night. I still could feel her presence, sitting next to me draped in a black saree and sitting in the most gracious posture.
Her cold hands are holding down the pages of my diary so that they don’t bother while I am writing. I could feel her long black tresses flowing and falling on her smiling face as well as mine because of the gush of the wind which was trying to turn the pages of my life’s diary. I am not scared of her presence around me. For those who don’t know, she is Death, personified and what a beauty she is.
Aaishwari thinks and mentions that I am ‘insane’, but it’s just her perception. I am addicted to pains. Now, I can feel those pair of the prettiest eyes looking into my diary, as if she could read whatever I am writing down. This is my third meeting with her and she is not saying anything and I don’t want to look at her because all the stars embellished on her black saree are getting me momentarily blind on every single glance.
Psychiatrist will refer to my condition as ‘hallucination’ But, I’ll say that it’s just the portrayal of the picture your heart draws and I guess Suvarna agrees, heart to heart, right? Even if it is hallucination, I m in love with death. I know that it is a mere coincidence that when the freezing fingers of death are running through my hair, Aaishwari must be feeling the shiver run down her spine. Its all in your mind’s game. Addiction to pain is not really very painful as the pain is, addiction just makes it tolerable. In any case, I am not trying to influence the way other people think.
It’s been a couple of days since this incident took place. It’s about a guy; blessed with a wonderful sister, lots of love and everything he could even wish for. The smile he wears is a fake one, even he knows that. To put things better, I’ll place myself in his shoes (no objections please, Roli and Aaishwari). Here it goes. I sat there while a perfect set of songs was aired on the FM and those lines were fading into reality which went like:
Kehte hain sabhi
Yeh zindagi gam aur khushi ka woh mel hain
Par humko to aaya nazar
Ki yeh zindagi who khel hain
Koi sab jeete to sab koi haar de
Apni to haar hain yaar mere
Yaar….mere……. Sitting at dining table, I was all in a state trance and craving, craving for pain. Everything started fading out, the voices around me, the sound of the channels being changed on the television, the riffs and rhythm of the songs being played on FM, the vocals, everything. Eventually I could hear the ‘tic-tic’ of the wall clock and finally all I could hear was my own heart beating aloud and saying to me that I could do it. That was one heck of motivation. I picked up a knife from the table, placed it gently on my wrist and throughout I was flooded with self realization. Started dragging it with a little pressure and soon I was through with it after leaving a cut of about 2.5 inches long.
Even before I could have placed the knife back on the table, I could already feel the blood oozing out, drop by drop. It rolled down my palms, through my finger and landed up the white marble floor, smearing my fingertips and nails with a dark red colour. I sat there silently, staring blankly at those dark red (rather maroon now) drops of blood on the white floor. They were still accusing me of conspiring against them. Slowly my sight was turning black, everything faded and I couldn’t keep my eyes open for long. As soon as I closed my eyes, I felt the ‘thud’ when I actually fell down on the floor.
I don’t know but now I could hear some different voices and sounds all together. I heard some big machines on my left (that’s where the sound was coming from) saying regularly at continuous intervals ‘Beep…Beep…Beep…Beep…’ I heard one familiar voice saying, “Abhi zinda hain, zaldi aao”. I gathered the courage to open my eyes against the white fluorescent lights and could see faces all around me nervous and crying, ‘What For?’ Before, I could have said anything my sight blurred again and black dominated the frame again. I closed my eyes and felt the voices fading away. I heard someone say, “He is sinking” and after that, I heard the machine beeping more ferociously, ‘Beep..Beep..Beep..Beep..’ and then an eternal ‘Be..ee..ee..ee..ee..pp..pp..pp..pp.’ which never seemed to have ended. I don’t know whether it did or it didn’t.
Writing Credits: Piyush Singh
Editing Credits: Aaishwari Chouhan
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