The Script

Me: Where is that book I gave you!

She: Where my Metallica cassette I gave you?

Me: Da, it is there in my home, I will give to you na!

She: Well so is the book.

Me (at my whining best): That is my favorite book and I need it.

She: Mushi, if you can get me out of this hospital for just 2 hours, I will get your book.

Those words had all the bit of sarcasm as well as pain. I guess I felt them both in full fledge.

Me: It is okay. Forget it. Do you want Little Hearts?

She: Yes but do you get it in the hospital canteen here?

Me: Well it will be there in the shop outside. I am sure about that.

She: You take all the effort of going through the whole flight of stairs from 6^th to ground floor twice in a short span just for a packet of 5 rupees biscuit while you cannot take the effort of remembering my cassette when you left home!!

It was only sarcasm only this time around. I felt it all the way down the flight of stairs as well as when going up.

Me: Now where did she go to?

I looked around her hospital room, it was silent. A beep from some medical machine beside her bed, the din of the people walking in the corridor, a small buzz of the air conditioner unit that is all that was disturbing the silence. I guess these rooms like the many others are much accustomed to this sort of silence along with an occasional wail or sob that replaces the sound of one’s last breath.

She: Hey! Did you get the biscuit?

Me: yes, where did you go?

She: I guess there was too much of blood in me so went to give it a free trip down the water drain!!

Those words were of pain or was it just frustration of being alive with a sick self.

Me (munching on a little heart): So where is Ikaka and bhabi?

She: They went to pick Uppa and Umma from the airport?

Me: What!! They are coming here? I better get out.

She: Da! Why? Why do you still keeping hiding from them. I am going to tell about you to them.

Me (rather annoyed): Seriously? Are you mad?

She: Hahaha, no da, I will one day before all this shit ends. I will share my happiness.

That was Pure Love. I relished it

She: One day they will know and I am sure Uppa will be happy to hear it.

Me: Yes, I guess so. Anyways I am going da.

She looked at me. Her parents were the only people who make me desert her when we meet because I just cannot face them. She knows that well.

She: Mushi, thanks for coming. I am really sorry that you cannot stay or see me all the time. I love you.

That words sums up the sole reason why I love her.

.

.

.

LOVE they say is a wily emotion. It brings the best out of you and also takes the best out of you. I felt it soothe me it for a long time, then one day it pierced me, then it numbed me. I guess I disowned it now because I am all free and barren of all the chaos and energy it brings.

I always loved mathematics but never the game of numbers or the ploy that it decides our stars/fate/destiny. Ignorance is bliss, or is it?

27041983 – 07031983 = 20010000

My Playstation awaits, time for some Unreal Tournament and oh yes! Here the game of numbers makes a HUGE difference in your Virtual Lifespan

Shuwaymiyah-Sultanate of Oman