A slice of tea and a cup of bread!
A Slice of tea and a cup of bread
I try to open my eyes but I just cant. I feel that my eyelids weigh about a ton each. I have a nasty taste lingering in my tongue and the atmosphere around me seems serene… too serene for my liking. I try opening my eyes again and succeed opening it half way through. I find that I’m lying on a crisp white hospital bed. Am I dreaming? I close my eyes again in shock and in pain. I try to think hard as to how I came to be admitted in this hospital. It’s coming back now… slowly. I remember going to work on a Friday morning without breakfast as usual. I also remember feeling a little unwell. But that did not bother me… I wonder why. Ten years… I sigh. It is ten years since I fell ill. Surprising but true. Other than a few mild attacks of cold and cough I did not have a single health hazard. I have actually forgotten what it is like to fall ill. I remember vaguely that the peon on finding me delirious with a high temperature had called an ambulance and I was brought down here.
But then it’s ten years since I did so many things. Work is like an alcohol it consumes you, addicts you and kills the person in you. I now realize how much of this is true. The last time I was genuinely joyous was when I got through a job interview. I gave my friends a good party that lasted all night long. Friends… how alien this word seems now coming from my mind? I haven’t a clue as to what happened to any of them. I never returned any calls initially and then when I shifted my residence did not bother to inform. I open my eyes again to see a handsome doc in crisp white with his stethoscope. I wonder why this doesn’t stir me any more. I paint that smile on my lips again. It is something that my work made me an expert in. A smile that never touches one’s heart but just lingers on your lips. I started working first for the sake of job satisfaction, then for money and then for power. Now I don’t know why I work. I just feel it’s a natural compulsion from within. My routine since ten years have been machine-like, very precise and by the clock. I don’t know who my neighbors are. I just know there is a dog next door… because I can hear it bark at nights. My only unknown companion, a sign of life around me. I rise every day at four and prepare something that could be called breakfast, pack the same for my so -called lunch and by 5:30 am I’m out of my house. a I pay a visit to a gym, work out for a couple of hours and then rush to my office. I stay locked my in cabin with is furnished with great flourish and sometimes I become so involved with my work that I forget to eat.
I hear the pitter-patter of the raindrops against the windows and I open my eyes again. The aroma that the first rains of the monsoons evoke is an exquisite one. I find a few bouquets standing on a table near by. And guess what I just realize that the people at work can’t even be original. All of them have a foot -note attached and they are all exactly the same… except for their signatures. I can think of hundred other people working to get into my position. Strangely it doesn’t worry me now. I want to reflect on the times that I lived as a human. I was a totally muddle- headed teenager with my stuff thrown all over the place. I used to love trekking and I can still remember the great times I shared with my friends, sitting by the bon fire talking about everything… dreams, fears, joys, sorrows and some of us did not even know what we wanted to be then. We were in paradise blissfully happy and happily ignorant that the harsh world was waiting for us just around the corner. My parents were such wonderful people always supportive, loving and caring. My mother never mumbled when I kept searching for things or didn’t clean up my room. My dad was a great inspiration always urging me to do what I wanted. I was totally secure in a blanket of love and youthful exuberance and confidence. Now I wonder where is that happy teenager in me now… or was it really me then. I just think that the person in me is now lost… buried deep beneath the rubbish of sophistication, obligation and a host of other adjectives spelling nonsense.
It’s three and it’s visiting time… I see my boss and a couple of other colleagues walking through that door. My mind is now made up. But then my plastic smile gets painted again… may sound like a cliché old habits do die hard. I receive their greetings with as much grace as possible and talk about general nothings and I’m definitely glad to see the back of them at the end of one hour and forty-five minutes. I thought their visit would do me good. But no, it’s only made me realize and acknowledge the fact that there is absolutely no one in this world who cares for me. As these sad thoughts linger I realize I’ve started to sink in a deep hole of self pity and depression. I ask the nurse for a scribbling pad and a pen and write out a carefully worded resignation. The kind nurse even offers to post it for me. I heave a sigh of relief… I am well enough now to move about. I explore my surroundings for the first time. I realize I’m in a private nursing home and I find that it has a lovely little garden. I look around to see whether there some place to sit and I discover a stone bench. I go back to my room, pick up a couple of paper backs and my walk man and return to this heaven. Phew! What a relief…
I watch the sky change its color like a chameleon… a moment golden yellow, deep orange and then watch the darkness creep through and engulf the sky. As I gather my things and begin to walk back I notice the handsome doc with another doc … one difference though the other doc is a woman. I can only see her hair thick, long and flowing. I can remember only one other person who had such lovely hair- my best friend and closest pal… Rhea. I approach her rather tentatively and I wonder whether she will recognize me now and if she recognizes me would she accept me as her friend again. She recognizes me immediately and to my obvious delight hugs me tight. She takes me inside and we have a long talk about the time we spent together and what we did with our lives. I found out that she had indeed achieved her cherished goal to be doc and was now a practicing cardiologist. I tell her my story and she immediately offers to share her apartment with me. The day after that I find myself discharged from the hospital and also find a car full of flowers and old familiar faces. I’m so thrilled that I have no words to express it. I hug all of them and they all make me really feel wanted. It’s almost as if I’ve never been away. I thank God for such wonderful friends and I see a rainbow in the sky… I remember a school song-
“Every rainbow in the sky, every pretty butterfly
Tells a fascinating news to those who dare to hope….
That God still, still loves the world…”
I do understand that I can’t stay without working for the rest of my life. But I do need this break, a breathing space to rediscover myself, my joy and happiness moreover I need to rejuvenate myself. I will work but only to keep myself occupied and I will never again allow it to occupy me and consume me completely. I guess everyone wants to go forward in life but there are some people who would do anything to take a couple of steps backward and stand and watch for sometime. In my case probably it’s my good old muddle-headed self, peaking out just a wee bit. I feel a little better already. My books are spread out in my room, the local FM is playing all my favorite songs, my friend is making me some hot chocolate and I feel like dancing. Next time you see me standing in the rack and putting my walking stick to bed or asking for a slice of tea and a cup of bread don’t fret… I’m as well as anyone can possibly be.
As far as my friends are concerned I can say only one thing…. God Bless their lovely souls!
Padmapriya Sridharan
I try to open my eyes but I just cant. I feel that my eyelids weigh about a ton each. I have a nasty taste lingering in my tongue and the atmosphere around me seems serene… too serene for my liking. I try opening my eyes again and succeed opening it half way through. I find that I’m lying on a crisp white hospital bed. Am I dreaming? I close my eyes again in shock and in pain. I try to think hard as to how I came to be admitted in this hospital. It’s coming back now… slowly. I remember going to work on a Friday morning without breakfast as usual. I also remember feeling a little unwell. But that did not bother me… I wonder why. Ten years… I sigh. It is ten years since I fell ill. Surprising but true. Other than a few mild attacks of cold and cough I did not have a single health hazard. I have actually forgotten what it is like to fall ill. I remember vaguely that the peon on finding me delirious with a high temperature had called an ambulance and I was brought down here.
But then it’s ten years since I did so many things. Work is like an alcohol it consumes you, addicts you and kills the person in you. I now realize how much of this is true. The last time I was genuinely joyous was when I got through a job interview. I gave my friends a good party that lasted all night long. Friends… how alien this word seems now coming from my mind? I haven’t a clue as to what happened to any of them. I never returned any calls initially and then when I shifted my residence did not bother to inform. I open my eyes again to see a handsome doc in crisp white with his stethoscope. I wonder why this doesn’t stir me any more. I paint that smile on my lips again. It is something that my work made me an expert in. A smile that never touches one’s heart but just lingers on your lips. I started working first for the sake of job satisfaction, then for money and then for power. Now I don’t know why I work. I just feel it’s a natural compulsion from within. My routine since ten years have been machine-like, very precise and by the clock. I don’t know who my neighbors are. I just know there is a dog next door… because I can hear it bark at nights. My only unknown companion, a sign of life around me. I rise every day at four and prepare something that could be called breakfast, pack the same for my so -called lunch and by 5:30 am I’m out of my house. a I pay a visit to a gym, work out for a couple of hours and then rush to my office. I stay locked my in cabin with is furnished with great flourish and sometimes I become so involved with my work that I forget to eat.
I hear the pitter-patter of the raindrops against the windows and I open my eyes again. The aroma that the first rains of the monsoons evoke is an exquisite one. I find a few bouquets standing on a table near by. And guess what I just realize that the people at work can’t even be original. All of them have a foot -note attached and they are all exactly the same… except for their signatures. I can think of hundred other people working to get into my position. Strangely it doesn’t worry me now. I want to reflect on the times that I lived as a human. I was a totally muddle- headed teenager with my stuff thrown all over the place. I used to love trekking and I can still remember the great times I shared with my friends, sitting by the bon fire talking about everything… dreams, fears, joys, sorrows and some of us did not even know what we wanted to be then. We were in paradise blissfully happy and happily ignorant that the harsh world was waiting for us just around the corner. My parents were such wonderful people always supportive, loving and caring. My mother never mumbled when I kept searching for things or didn’t clean up my room. My dad was a great inspiration always urging me to do what I wanted. I was totally secure in a blanket of love and youthful exuberance and confidence. Now I wonder where is that happy teenager in me now… or was it really me then. I just think that the person in me is now lost… buried deep beneath the rubbish of sophistication, obligation and a host of other adjectives spelling nonsense.
It’s three and it’s visiting time… I see my boss and a couple of other colleagues walking through that door. My mind is now made up. But then my plastic smile gets painted again… may sound like a cliché old habits do die hard. I receive their greetings with as much grace as possible and talk about general nothings and I’m definitely glad to see the back of them at the end of one hour and forty-five minutes. I thought their visit would do me good. But no, it’s only made me realize and acknowledge the fact that there is absolutely no one in this world who cares for me. As these sad thoughts linger I realize I’ve started to sink in a deep hole of self pity and depression. I ask the nurse for a scribbling pad and a pen and write out a carefully worded resignation. The kind nurse even offers to post it for me. I heave a sigh of relief… I am well enough now to move about. I explore my surroundings for the first time. I realize I’m in a private nursing home and I find that it has a lovely little garden. I look around to see whether there some place to sit and I discover a stone bench. I go back to my room, pick up a couple of paper backs and my walk man and return to this heaven. Phew! What a relief…
I watch the sky change its color like a chameleon… a moment golden yellow, deep orange and then watch the darkness creep through and engulf the sky. As I gather my things and begin to walk back I notice the handsome doc with another doc … one difference though the other doc is a woman. I can only see her hair thick, long and flowing. I can remember only one other person who had such lovely hair- my best friend and closest pal… Rhea. I approach her rather tentatively and I wonder whether she will recognize me now and if she recognizes me would she accept me as her friend again. She recognizes me immediately and to my obvious delight hugs me tight. She takes me inside and we have a long talk about the time we spent together and what we did with our lives. I found out that she had indeed achieved her cherished goal to be doc and was now a practicing cardiologist. I tell her my story and she immediately offers to share her apartment with me. The day after that I find myself discharged from the hospital and also find a car full of flowers and old familiar faces. I’m so thrilled that I have no words to express it. I hug all of them and they all make me really feel wanted. It’s almost as if I’ve never been away. I thank God for such wonderful friends and I see a rainbow in the sky… I remember a school song-
“Every rainbow in the sky, every pretty butterfly
Tells a fascinating news to those who dare to hope….
That God still, still loves the world…”
I do understand that I can’t stay without working for the rest of my life. But I do need this break, a breathing space to rediscover myself, my joy and happiness moreover I need to rejuvenate myself. I will work but only to keep myself occupied and I will never again allow it to occupy me and consume me completely. I guess everyone wants to go forward in life but there are some people who would do anything to take a couple of steps backward and stand and watch for sometime. In my case probably it’s my good old muddle-headed self, peaking out just a wee bit. I feel a little better already. My books are spread out in my room, the local FM is playing all my favorite songs, my friend is making me some hot chocolate and I feel like dancing. Next time you see me standing in the rack and putting my walking stick to bed or asking for a slice of tea and a cup of bread don’t fret… I’m as well as anyone can possibly be.
As far as my friends are concerned I can say only one thing…. God Bless their lovely souls!
Padmapriya Sridharan
posted by dippydiv at 10:09 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home