I am tired of my life. I don't have right to disturb everybody whether or not they say a word for this. But.....
but , what to do ? I can't take care of myself . It's better to end this life.
My half of the body is paralyzed. I am lying on the bed since six months. In the beginning , I thought that this was for a short duration and soon I would recuperate . But , it persisted on . I don't feel anything in my lower half of body . To put in words , I am half dead. Yes! a half dead.
I always ask my mother - 'Why did this happen to me?' and answer is a silence most of the time and some consolations for the remaining times.
My grief increases many fold when the relatives visit to see me . I should not doubt their intentions but I feel bad for each meet . They talk of god, fate and bad luck. They talk of karma. I listen them silently, nod for them mechanically and giggle with them wryly . Do they think that I can't get up again? Do they attribute my suffering to me? I don't know . Definitely not much . But, Unbeknown to how others react - do they hide their tears or do they content for successfully fulfilling their formality - I sense a pair of eyes whose corners turn watery whenever I become successful to control my water - my mother's eyes.
I visit doctors every alternate day or every week . I don't visit the same face for many times. I am treated less like a patient and more like an experimental bot . I am no longer fascinated to this profession now. Sometimes I am asked many weird questions. I fail to understand their relation in the course of treatment .
'What is the color of sky? ' 'What is the result when 42 and 37 are summed up? ' blah blah .
The doctors give justification that I might have fallen a few times, considering my incapability to balance myself and hence were those question to confirm my mental condition. Alas ! I am given clean cheat every time. Sometime I feel too bad. If I were not patient or they were not my doctors , I would have definitely asked them something like 'square root of 3' to prove those questioners inadequately sane. But...
but... I am helpless.
I have not seen my school after first terminal examinations. My friends visit me sometimes. Their words of optimism don't match their facial expression . I don't let them see the darkness in my eyes.
Sometimes I try to read some books laying on the bed. My parents herald my this effort as a step in my recovery. I too don't give up. Now, I don't solve mathematics problems, but read them . I don't know when will I solve them.
Sometimes I falter. I cry and cry a lot . I ensure that I am not being watched. Soon, I envelop the ostensible veneer of optimism, bravery and confidence. I don't want to hurt my parents.
***
Today is Christmas . I am giving up all my hopes. I already have lost faith in god and now same is true for doctors too. There is no sliver of recovery. I don't cry now. My tears nerve have dried, perhaps. People don't visit to see me now. Friend are busy with their are exams.
I don't want my mother to take me to toilet every-time.I am 15 and I feel bad and embarrassed.
Today I have got the complete leaf of Tencodep tablets (sleeping pills). My grandma takes these pills. She forgot the pills near my bed.
I am willing to die now. You don't have right to be burden on others' lives. I will gulp all the 10 pills together on 2nd Jan - I decide. I don't want to spoil family's very first day of new year.
***
Crumbs! I can't die too. One new doctor is experimenting on me. And, though he is not famous doctor, my parents have too much hope on him. I too will cooperate him till 2nd Jan. I don't want to be called as 'coward ' . I am just helpless. When all blessings, wishes, offerings and treatments failed to make me stand, I am giving one experimental opportunity to this mediocre doctor too.I have zilch in hope.
I am holding my tears and girding up for new avalanche of injections and pills. Anyways, I have been injected a hundred of injections and five hundred pills hitherto - I calculate. Not a matter of bravery , but a matter of helplessness. I will not allow anyone to play with my body after 2nd Jan.
***
'I don't know this experiment' I reply. I try but in vain to hold my tears. It is something like flood of tears breaching all boundaries. I didn't cry eve before in front of my friends. My chemistry teacher holds me. He loves me . I appeared this laboratory after eight months. I missed several papers in final exams as well.
' Here is the real genius' told my maths teacher in the class in my appreciation ' You can't score 57 genuine marks in mathematics without actually solving a single problem unless you are a real genius' .
On my class teacher's suggestion and principle's consent , I am promoted to next class.
Things have changed now. The world is as beautiful to me now as it was eight months back - perhaps even more beautiful. I love myself more than I did so ever before. I can walk now, I can run now and I can play now. Amid all this, I learned two important chapters that no school will teach me. First, there is a god . Because He has many people to visit, He may be bit late , but He does listen for sure. He tests his beloved ones occasionally.
And.... Second...
Life is beautiful. Not all do recognize the preciousness of this bounty .
And.... I decide... I will not die again... ever .... and ..... forever.
Sumit J
but , what to do ? I can't take care of myself . It's better to end this life.
My half of the body is paralyzed. I am lying on the bed since six months. In the beginning , I thought that this was for a short duration and soon I would recuperate . But , it persisted on . I don't feel anything in my lower half of body . To put in words , I am half dead. Yes! a half dead.
I always ask my mother - 'Why did this happen to me?' and answer is a silence most of the time and some consolations for the remaining times.
My grief increases many fold when the relatives visit to see me . I should not doubt their intentions but I feel bad for each meet . They talk of god, fate and bad luck. They talk of karma. I listen them silently, nod for them mechanically and giggle with them wryly . Do they think that I can't get up again? Do they attribute my suffering to me? I don't know . Definitely not much . But, Unbeknown to how others react - do they hide their tears or do they content for successfully fulfilling their formality - I sense a pair of eyes whose corners turn watery whenever I become successful to control my water - my mother's eyes.
I visit doctors every alternate day or every week . I don't visit the same face for many times. I am treated less like a patient and more like an experimental bot . I am no longer fascinated to this profession now. Sometimes I am asked many weird questions. I fail to understand their relation in the course of treatment .
'What is the color of sky? ' 'What is the result when 42 and 37 are summed up? ' blah blah .
The doctors give justification that I might have fallen a few times, considering my incapability to balance myself and hence were those question to confirm my mental condition. Alas ! I am given clean cheat every time. Sometime I feel too bad. If I were not patient or they were not my doctors , I would have definitely asked them something like 'square root of 3' to prove those questioners inadequately sane. But...
but... I am helpless.
I have not seen my school after first terminal examinations. My friends visit me sometimes. Their words of optimism don't match their facial expression . I don't let them see the darkness in my eyes.
Sometimes I try to read some books laying on the bed. My parents herald my this effort as a step in my recovery. I too don't give up. Now, I don't solve mathematics problems, but read them . I don't know when will I solve them.
Sometimes I falter. I cry and cry a lot . I ensure that I am not being watched. Soon, I envelop the ostensible veneer of optimism, bravery and confidence. I don't want to hurt my parents.
***
Today is Christmas . I am giving up all my hopes. I already have lost faith in god and now same is true for doctors too. There is no sliver of recovery. I don't cry now. My tears nerve have dried, perhaps. People don't visit to see me now. Friend are busy with their are exams.
I don't want my mother to take me to toilet every-time.I am 15 and I feel bad and embarrassed.
Today I have got the complete leaf of Tencodep tablets (sleeping pills). My grandma takes these pills. She forgot the pills near my bed.
I am willing to die now. You don't have right to be burden on others' lives. I will gulp all the 10 pills together on 2nd Jan - I decide. I don't want to spoil family's very first day of new year.
***
Crumbs! I can't die too. One new doctor is experimenting on me. And, though he is not famous doctor, my parents have too much hope on him. I too will cooperate him till 2nd Jan. I don't want to be called as 'coward ' . I am just helpless. When all blessings, wishes, offerings and treatments failed to make me stand, I am giving one experimental opportunity to this mediocre doctor too.I have zilch in hope.
I am holding my tears and girding up for new avalanche of injections and pills. Anyways, I have been injected a hundred of injections and five hundred pills hitherto - I calculate. Not a matter of bravery , but a matter of helplessness. I will not allow anyone to play with my body after 2nd Jan.
***
'I don't know this experiment' I reply. I try but in vain to hold my tears. It is something like flood of tears breaching all boundaries. I didn't cry eve before in front of my friends. My chemistry teacher holds me. He loves me . I appeared this laboratory after eight months. I missed several papers in final exams as well.
' Here is the real genius' told my maths teacher in the class in my appreciation ' You can't score 57 genuine marks in mathematics without actually solving a single problem unless you are a real genius' .
On my class teacher's suggestion and principle's consent , I am promoted to next class.
Things have changed now. The world is as beautiful to me now as it was eight months back - perhaps even more beautiful. I love myself more than I did so ever before. I can walk now, I can run now and I can play now. Amid all this, I learned two important chapters that no school will teach me. First, there is a god . Because He has many people to visit, He may be bit late , but He does listen for sure. He tests his beloved ones occasionally.
And.... Second...
Life is beautiful. Not all do recognize the preciousness of this bounty .
And.... I decide... I will not die again... ever .... and ..... forever.
Sumit J
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