Life was going on. He was feeling like he was dragging it unnecessarily. He thought of ending his life once or twice but stopped thinking that no one will cry if he dies.

What’s the use of dying if it doesn’t impact anyone?

It was kinda cold. Actually chilling if one considers the city’ weather. There are three seasons in this city. Warm, warmer and warmest. People realises it’s winter when they turn their calendars to December. Moms bring out sweaters for their kids. Mufflers for the dads.

They sweat wearing that. Yet, it’s winter and woollen clothes are a must.

Winter is over when the calendar page is flipped to February. Warmer season starts.

Nothing happens in this crazy hectic city. Everything is, as if, pre-planned. People, without knowing why, run like crazy animals. They know for sure there’s a train just after two minutes and the probability is that it will be less crowded. But they will pack the train like a school of fish. Packed-like sardines compartments screech in pain and reluctantly carry a bellyful of disgraced people.

Nothing happens in the city except this mad crazy rush, for no reason or rhyme.

And he gets sick everytime he thinks that he has to spend a substantial portion of his life here. It not only impacts him mentally but gets feverish sometimes. This city’s weather doesn’t suit him at all.

Yet, strangely. Yes, strangely. He always wanted to come to this city. He always wanted to embrace this life. It’s like Sauron’s Mordor. You need to be strong willed to resist the lure of this city. And our boy is the weakest willed person known to this world.

Doctor told him to wrap a muffler around his neck, cause this cold might aggravate into a bad cough and might transform into pneumonia. So bought himself a new muffler. A blue-red semi-woollen thick muffler of a reputed textile company.

It’s strange weather. He was sweating profusely but then when he was taking it off he could feel the cold creeping in like a snake. It was disgusting!

Ah pneumonia! What a nice experience it would be!

While coming home, in the train, he stood near the door. The fresh, sort of chilling winter air was gushing in. His hands were getting hard. Lips were dry like a leaf. He had put the muffler long time back in his bag. Now he unbuttoned his shirt. He thought people were thinking he was crazy. But that’s OK. He told everyone … you don’t know the grand scheme! He hollered his message to everyone. No one took notice. He was hollering on his mind.

Wow!!! He never knew the fresh air can be so rejuvenating. He never knew taking risk intentionally could be so life-giving.

His room mate was quite surprised to see him. “Hey, did you fight with someone on your way? Shirt unbuttoned … hair so spiky? What happened?”

“Yes, it was a mighty battle.”
“Whom did you fight with? What did he do to you?”
“He was trying his best to stop me, but I was at my best! He didn’t have a chance”

“But who was he.”

“What? What do you mean? Explain.”
“Get lost bloody. I won’t explain anything to anyone. Get lost.”

He left his roommate bedazzled. He slipped in his room and started laughing loudly on his mind. His roommate could not hear the mockery.

He did this for two days more. On the third day, he could not move from his bed. He was having problem breathing.

“Bad case of pneumonia. Can you take care of him?” the doctor asked the roommate.
“Yes, I can. I mean I have an office to go. But I can take leave,” said the simple roommate.

But he didn’t want to disturb his simple friend. He took his mobile.

“Sir, I am suffering from pneumonia, I can’t move. Can I go to my native? Doctor says I need rest. Please talk to the doctor.”

The boss was concerned, the doctor’s last words were ringing in his ear, “ … he might die if proper care is not taken. At least it will affect the brain.”

The boss hung up. He rang his boss.

“Anyway, he can’t come to the office right? Let him go. Who cares. Don’t involve the office in it. We are running on a tight budget. Can’t take the burden of his treatment.”

His boss rang him up. “I am very sorry to hear that boy. Of course we are concerned. Go to your native. Book the flight now. Hurry. And take care and return when you are fully fit.”

“Thank you sir,” he laughed his trademark one.

Ah!!! His place on earth. Home!!!

“God!!! How you managed to get to such a state? My God! Son, what have you done,” his mother was sobbing.

“If you cry like this now what you will do when I am no more. If you want to see me alive, start doing what you are best at. Put your hands on my forehead. Let me sleep. I am tired.”

And he was fast asleep soon.


Ace of Spades said…
reminds me of when i was hit with typhoid and malaria one after the other.
get well soon bugger
Vincent said…
As ever you have turned the mundane into the dramatic, like an alchemist turning mud into gold. Is it permissible to use your highly-coloured story via reverse-engineering to deduce a more prosaic account of what's been happening to you lately?

Hope you are recovered, anyhow.
Shuv said…
bravo!! brilliant! loved it. this is vintage ghetu!
ghetufool said…
am fine now. and keep coming. bugger.
ghetufool said…

hope my employers don't come across this blog and attempt a reverse engineering.

i have to come to your place to stay then. and you will pay the plane fare and rest.
ghetufool said…
thank you. ghetu is trying to be back in his vintage mood.
Apocalyptus said…
How are you now? Get well soon. Best wishes....
word-viz said…
glad to see you back my ghetu. nothing like mum, what would we do without them? they give sense and belonging to an ever-changing world.
and the next time you have the urge to fight somebody, come over. will wallop you and that urge will go away.
welcome back.

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