There are seldom crystal clear beginnings in our lives, those days and moments we can go back to find when everything started. And also there are those moments when fate crashes with our lives setting in tandem a sequence of events whose outcome we could have never foreknown.
It’s already past midnight and I am wide awake. Earlier after creeping into bed I tossed and turned for quite long before I finally gave up. So, now I am sitting with a pen in hand wondering about my own intersection with fate. Lately, it seems that is all I can think about.
Apart from the usual steady ticking of the clock that sits beside the bed, there is pindrop silence. And as I stare at the blank sheet of paper, I realize that I don’t know where to start. It’s not because I am ambivalent of my story but I am not sure why I feel compelled to share it. What can one achieve by digging into the past? Afterall the events have unfolded since the past twelve years.
My memories for this period is aided by a diary that I have treasured since I was a boy and the wonderful moments etched in my memory, though a handful.
Who am I? And how I wonder will this story end?
The first rays of the sun seems to be making its way through the window but my innerself still seems to be foggy with the breath of my life gone by. I am actually a sight this morning, my legs tightly wrapped with something in white to repair the fractures and many more bandages here and there, unkept hair with traces kissing my eyelids at times. The tunes of “Show me the feeling of being lonely…” has been humming a hundred times in my ears in the last few hours.
Let’s now come back to my life. What a life it has been. It isn’t easy to explain. It has not been a rip-roaring salient journey as I fancied it to be, but neither did I give up except maybe, at this instance.
I am an ordinary boy with ordinary thoughts leading an ordinary life. I have no complaints about the path I have chosen and the way it has taken me places but unfortunately, time does not make it easy to stay on course. Though the path is still the same but now it is strewn with rocks. Few years back, maybe it would have been possible to tread a different path but it’s impossible now. There is sickness rolling through my body; I am neither strong nor healthy and suddenly my days have turned into an old party balloon, growing softer over time.
With the onset of the day, the nurses see me and we exchange a smile. Now they are my friends and I talk mostly to them these days. They too observe me daily and whisper amongst themselves about me . Maybe they want to give me the mental healer.
I realize the odds are against me and this, I have learned in my lifetime. And just as I do everyday, I write my diary and read it aloud in my heart so that she can hear it, in the hope that the miracle that has dominated my life will once again prevail.
And maybe, just maybe it will…
Dated:5th May 2010
Posted late for being handicapped.
