The Unfaithful Life
My opinion about God has surely changed since the past three years, thanks to my jinxed experiences with life. He always keeps on testing us, I know that he has the right to do so, but don’t you think that he sometimes overdoes it?
When he is sad; he throws you into this crime filled world to struggle and make a living. When he is angry; he searches for one of those rare moments when you are not regretting life and sends a message ‘You have cancer’. And last but not the least, when he is at the peak of his anger; he knows that you are expecting death so he postpones your death to add three more ultimate painful years to your life.
Three years back I got this news that I am on the last stage of this fatal disease, called cancer. No previous warning, no indirect clue, not even a small hint, just a so called experienced doctor calling on my sister’s marriage and saying, “Mr. Aaron your test results are here. I am sorry to say that . . . (after a long pause) you have lung cancer. You are on the last stage” and before he can say a few consoling words, my cell falls down from my hand to hit the ground. After that incident, the essence of my life has sublimed. From the next day onwards, it became limited to just three places; home, office and Mr. Buck’s cafe. No more partying, no more movies, no more anything.I have lost all hopes from life. With my fingers crossed, I am now eagerly waiting for death. Sometimes I wish I had the courage to kill myself.
After that incident, I have started living in my own imaginary world. My soul has set out for an endless journey, searching for answers to a few questions. To begin with, “Why is life a boon for some and a curse for the others? Why is it faithful for some and unfaithful for the others?”
Unfortunately, after Lord Buddha, no man alive has ever found an answer to any of these questions. Many have lost themselves searching for these answers. But still, my soul has faith. The journey will only end when the answers are found.
"Your coffee is getting cold and we need to close our shop", said the gloomy faced waiter. I come back to senses. I find myself sitting at Mr. Buck’s cafe, with hot coffee (now cold) kept in front of me. Three long years have passed since that incident, but the pain is still unbearable. I am a regular visitor to this place. I find peace in here, away from life, like a sufferer finds at a refugee camp. I feel today is a good day. I can smell death around me. Last time it happened three years back, when I got the news of cancer. I’m quite stubborn.
Even though I have lung cancer, I still smoke, knowing that every time I do so, a part of my life gets flown away in the air.
Unlike today, I generally leave this place early. Among the many people here, the only one drawing my attention is a lively old man, with a cowboy type get up; hay between lips, a round brown hat on head and a big smile on face. He would be in his late 60's. I quickly take my eyes off him, take my cigarette packet kept on the bar counter, pay the bill, give a last look at the coffee which had accompanied me for another sad evening and come out of my refugee camp. I take out my cigarette packet but soon come to know that it now contains asthma tablets.
Oh! I brought the wrong packet from the bar counter. Without caring who the real owner of the packet is, I brutally throw it in the nearby gutter. The fear of death has made me a cruel human being, but I don’t seem to care about it.
Walking fast, I cross the third lane to the right of Versace Housing colony. I reach the Hershey Street, take a left turn and through the shortcut, I begin to head for my home. The only person accompanying me is just behind. I can only see his shadow. I keep on walking without caring much. Houses around are made of mud and are painted dark green. Rats are jumping from one dustbin to another searching for some food so that they don’t have to sleep empty stomach. On my right hand side, the big metal dustbins along with the stale things inside are making the air poisonous. But no disturbance around me can stop me from drawing conclusions out of my life again.
The endless search of my soul for the answers can be compared to a lonely wanderer who is searching for an oasis in the infinite vastness of a desert. The oasis he is searching is said to be completely filled with magical water. This water has the power to make men immortal. With fear in his mind, hope on his face, and faith in his heart, the wanderer has alone set out on his long journey in the giant desert to search for the lost oasis to quench his thirst.
Many have set out in the desert to search for the oasis, but have either been swallowed by the ever stretching sand or have been baked dead by the scorching sun. But no one ever found the oasis. With faith in his innocent heart, the wanderer says, “I will find it. I have faith in God. I will definitely find it.”
But Alas! The poor mortal forgot the fact that if God is with him he wouldn’t have been what he is, a ‘Lonely Desert Wanderer’. No human alive has ever found answers to the questions that my soul has been searching for. But still, my soul has faith; the faith that should have died three years back.
I keep on walking and thinking simultaneously until the shadow behind me interrupts my thoughts. I feel it’s getting too much now! This shadow had been following me since past ten minutes. A cold sweat drenches me. Fear begins to spread its sharp claws over me to make me feel like a helpless rat.
Horrifying voices can now be heard from by back. These voices are like the ones that zombies make in horror movies, or maybe they are the words of an ancient language unknown to me. Now, they begin to sound like painful coughing. The shadow now grows as big as mine. I begin to run.
As I look back to see what the thing is, my head collides with the brutal lamp post. Then with all the leftover power I have, I hold the lamp post and try to stand up. Blood pours down my head like an impetuous stream. I try to run as fast as I can. I hear a loud shriek followed by a sound of someone falling on the ground, followed by utter silence.
“Are you trying to scare me? Don’t worry. You can’t!” I say to myself, hoping to get some courage out of nowhere.
The streets and the buildings seem to lean towards me, as if opening their mouths to engulf me in. My head sways in the air like yellow daffodils on a windy day. In other words, I begin to loose consciousness. But fortunately I get some hope as I am now able to see my house at some distance from here. After more than twenty minutes of running away from the shadow, bleedings and misfortunes, I finally arrive home and with the leftover power that I have in my tired body, I close the door, not having the power to even shut it hard. I lay besides the door, curled up like a worm. Counting my last moments, I want to forget everything that has happened with me. I want to be happy for the last time before my demise. Maybe I am trying to conclude my life story with a ‘Happy Ending’. To do so, I recall the time when my life wasn’t the way it is today.
My childhood days, that small garden in our house which used to grow bright yellow coloured mangoes, those weekend days, and Sunday picnics all act as a rising sun after a dark night. With the ring of the school bell, I used to run towards my happiness, my mom, who came to pick me up daily. Her sight gave me a delight which cannot be expressed in mere words. That one moment is still worth spending a few days in heaven for me. Now, a tiny smile can be seen on my dead face! I feel that I touch happiness after many days.
* * * * *
(Next day morning)
Unfortunately, fate seems to have different plan for me in store. I didn’t die. Darn! This time also death defied me. I wonder why I was feeling that something wrong is going to happen to me while sitting in the café. Generally my premonition isn’t wrong.
Despites the shadow, the blood and the fear; one thing happened good last night. Trying to make my ending a happy one, after long time, I touched happiness for a second.
I open the door without any horror on my face. Today’s newspaper is lying near the door. I take it and go back inside, sit down on the sofa, and begin to read it.
‘Water pipelines damaged, a severe . . .’ ‘Electricity supply to be . . .’ I read through the headings without paying much attention to the content. Even while reading, I keep wondering about the shadow. Just then, an interesting heading on the bottom right corner drags my attention. I read the article.
It leaves me Spellbound. I begin recalling myself throwing the asthma tablets in the gutter last night. The tea cup falls down from my hand to spoil the red carpet. I get the courage I was always seeking for. I keep my right foot on the window and gaze at the bright sun.
“Mom used to say that when a person dies, he becomes a star. I am sure that my mom became a part of sun when she died, because sun is the brightest star out there and so was she.” I say whispering to myself.
With a bright smile I jump from the window, trying to out to reach for her. Falling from a thousand feet, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about the article.
My soul is now free, leaving behind its dead body to rot. The desert wanderer gets his long searched oasis. Nightingales are flying over; plush green trees are surrounding the shy oasis. The wanderer kneels down on the sand, joins his hands and looks at the sky above to thank God. My soul is now free, to meet god and fulfil its last task.
The article read as follows:
A Mysterious Death
A newspaper hawker was wandering the
