And Life Doesn’t Move On

 All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

 

Death amazes me. It is technically so simple. The end of life.  But a life is a mystery. An existence like none another. That ‘life’ might have known things that nobody else on Earth did. That life might have changed the world someday. Nobody would know though. Cause the ‘life’ no longer exists.  So complex when you think of it that way. But that’s something science will discover I suppose. Blah, I can go on and on. But hei, do you remember the story  I once told you? About Nazriya chechi?
The moment people heard about the unfortunate incident they started queuing up in front of the house to get a glimpse.  It was shocking how people actually wanted to ‘see’ the dead. To see the non-existent. There was the initial panic. People were all talking about it. Then the sadness gradually creeped in.  The burial. And that was that. The end. A life had been effectively removed from the earth.  Nobody thinks of her now. Her son lives with his step mother too young to understand what had happened.  Another life had come, gone and made no significant difference to the Earth.

Come to think of it, wasn’t it yesterday that you told me about the admission for MBA? You did seem pretty happy then. Or was it the day before? Damn all those social networking sites. Working on it has given me a memory loss. But it was yesterday right? Oh yeah, it was the day before. You had dropped mom at home after going to the temple. You usually go on Wednesdays right?

So you lost in a subject.  I suppose it must’ve been tough. That’s what these self financing colleges do mate! They buy an advance from you and make you sign a piece of paper saying that you won’t get it back if you don’t join. So? Just go crack the supplementary exam and get it done with! Or we can still screw these colleges. We could’ve convinced some hot shot lawyer to get your money back. 

Remember me telling you about my miserable semester 6 results? The one that ruined my CAT plans. It was very tough to handle initially. There I was “arrear-less” and getting ready to face my first interview. I distinctly remember that day. Onam celebrations were going on in my college. We had gone to the hostel to take some rest when somebody rushed in and told us about the results. Ajmal’s face when he saw my results. Those moments are still etched in my memory like it was yesterday. I had dragged the laptop from the bed. And from the opposite I heard 5 gunshots. Probably from the gun the ‘vettakaran’ uses in Pulikali. But exactly 5. Not 4, not 6, not 10. Exactly 5. And yeah, I had failed for 5 exams out of the 6 I had written.
You believe in God mate? Of course you do. Well He is Bollywood at heart. Likes a few twists and turns in between. But ultimately it’s always a fairy tale. All you have to do is play along and do your bit properly.

Jacob was right when he said every shit has a golden lining. Back then I had wanted to quit college and just get lost. Add to that the break up problems. Life was pretty much a big mess.  But sometimes you need such incidents to wake you up. Like the break up. I lost one person from my life and re discovered a 100 who have always been there. I was simply being blind. Mom for example.
So what if I had joined a company after being placed? I wouldn’t have been able to be there with mom when she fell sick. Remember mate, life is pretty darn easy if you’d let things be simple.

During my internship I met some extremely talented folks. People who’d make you and I feel worthless. Artists. Designers. Writers. All working for Rs 5000/- a month. Yes that low. That’s the world man.  And I came from a college where a job offer of 3.5L an year would be considered trash. There is more to life than what we know.

While at hospital I talked to this lady who used to clean our room. What was her name? Hmm yeah Jaya. She was telling me about her 3 kids. You know what her payment is? 3000. Husband passed away an year back. 3000 divided by 4. Do your math. You haven’t heard the strange part yet. She moved from some another hospital to this place last month due to the “far far superior” payment (as she put it ). And I can go on and on about stories Rajiv. About Mr. Chinnaswamy at Nooradi in Nelliampathy who between his heavy coughs managed to tell his story. His days at Tamil Nadu. Why he had to leave his family and come to Nelliampathy. Stories like these changes your perspective. This is a big world. And every living thing on this planet has his/her story.

And look at you. You choose to lie there facing the ceiling instead. You don’t want to know these stories, do you? Look at your mom. Look at her eyes. That’s life Rajiv. That’s worth living for. But you wanted to be different.

You were always the brave one. And yet these people coming in are calling you the ‘coward’.  A coward for ending your dreams and another hundred’s surrounding you, on a piece of rope. You my friend, I had great hope in you. I thought you’ll teach me how significant life really is. Yet you chose to disappear. Be like everyone else – dust.  You were optimism personified and now it is dead.

Go away. You think everything will be all right now? Do you even think those people at the MBA institute will return the advance you paid? So what was the point? Are these people right? Were you a coward? Or was there something else? Something none of us know about? But why? 

“Son….Son, I’m afraid you’ll have to move.”

“Oh I’m sorry. It’s time to leave?”

“Please don’t take him. Please don’t. He is not dead. He can’t be dead”, cried his mom as they shifted the body to the ambulance. 

The ambulance left. And so did everyone else…

But Rajiv, tell me something? What is it like? To be free?