The lush green grass full of life and laden with the tiny drops of dew, shining like pearls in the golden rays of the sun on a lazy morning, tickled my feet as I stepped on it. The cool breeze that caressed my face brought with it a lovely fragrance so familiar that I could instantly and unmistakably recognize as hers. I took a deep breath and closing my eyes, I let the fragrance guide my feet as I dreamily glided towards her. A few steps later, I opened my eyes and there she was, smiling at me, sitting on a swing gently moving back and forth, a sight so endearing. With one hand she bade me to sit beside her while absently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with the other. I followed, like a person hypnotised by a great magician, with my eyes seeing nothing but her. Such was her elegance that it made me believe that angels are for real. I took her hands in mine and kissed her baby bump. Whole of the world came to a halt as I rested my head in her lap, feeling like a baby myself. I closed my eyes, again, as she ran her fingers through my hair. If heaven ever existed, it was this...
I was not sure when I had fallen asleep. Amidst a life lynching darkness, I woke up. It was the onset of monsoon and the rain was pattering on the window pane like a seasoned dancer performing a salsa. I did not get up; it was too fantastic a dream to let go off. Dreams! Funny that everybody craves to have a dream life but I was living my life only in dreams; the world that I had created in my mind was far better than this tangible world. In it I had carved a niche for myself and held everything that was pleasurable and close to my heart. It was so beautiful that I never felt like coming out of it. Although it used to suck me along a downward spiral from this obnoxious real world, I did not want to escape it. I was desperate to go back in there. I moved my hands around in search of syringes or a pack of brown sugar. Everything was empty. My eyes turned red. I badly needed it but I did not have even a miniscule of strength to lift myself. I gave out a shrilling cry, which echoed back to my ears. Bounded and submissive, there was very little difference between me and the four walls of the room that stood testifying my horrible state. I wanted to punch myself in anguish, but my nerves had become too weak to even lift my hand, let alone punching. Lying helplessly on the bed, I felt as if I were a breathing corpse. I kept staring blankly at the roof with eyes wide open, when my aggrieved mind, which functioned involuntarily these days, decided to slide into retrospection. Five years ago, I felt like I was the happiest man in the world; leading a life of content, having chased a dream and being labelled as an achiever, a son of proud parents, a loving husband of a beautiful wife and a well-established man in the society. Today, all of it was swept away, just like a dream that ends when you wake up, as if it had never happened, and I was left reeling for my karma.
Although most of the past was obscure to me, a few moments had left an everlasting footprint. Moments like- when I had proposed my love and she had readily agreed, the pride and happiness on my father’s face when I had got a well paying job, the happiness when I had heard that I was becoming a father; all of which formed the good part of my memory. That is one side of the story. On the other are the much darker and horrendous ones; the numerous times I had failed rehab and had eventually relapsed, the promises that I had made to my family turning out to be a prevarication, my father’s despairing face when he said he no longer considered me as a son and that I was culpable for besmirching the name of the family, when I was tested positive for the deadly HIV, when my dear wife said she felt betrayed and cursed me for putting her through hell, when she declared that she no longer wanted to carry our baby and the list goes on..
It was around 10 in the morning when I finally managed to get off the bed. The rain had stopped and the sun had lazily broken out behind the clouds. I dressed myself in my naturally shabby way and started off to ‘score’ some ‘maal’. Lethargically keeping a step forward and losing energy with every step, I walked, on a journey of about a mile which seemed infinitely long, with a tarnished black cap sitting loosely on my bald head and a stick in hand to support myself. You are mistaken if you think I am an old man. I was only 30, or was it 32? My body had become a haven to all kinds of diseases; you name it and I had it! Everybody had given up on me and it had already been 2 months since the doctor having told that I had at max an year to live. What fear can a person sitting on a time bomb waiting for it to explode possibly have? I had only two options in front of me – Live in sobriety in a hospital, spending the last moments of my life lying in a room having an overdose of white colour and a strong odour of disinfectant, vegetating watching others die and wait until one gracious day they shift me from a general ward to a mortuary. Or, I could live in a world of ecstasy, floating around in a free space that belonged to me alone, enjoying the bliss and dying a happy, silent and an unknown death. Who would want to lead a dull and boring life when you know you are dying? I had nothing else to lose; only after you lose everything, you are free to do anything! Unanimously, my choice had been the latter one.
I reached the now well-known spot to me and began dilly dallying in anticipation of the dealer. Two hours went by; no sign of him. It was one of the darkest areas of the city and was the brewing ground for all kinds of illicit activities. Prostitutes who were dressed to excite all your senses at once walked around waving their hands, showing a glimpse of their body, smiling and winking at you as if to kindle your manhood. There were men who pocketed a commission by keeping a hawk’s eye on urchins, picking them up and supplying them as cheap labour. Guns, weapons and drugs were sold as openly as vegetables in the market. In here, everyone was a shadow of what they were, walking the streets like ghosts with no identity of theirs, but known to the outer world only by their tags, be it the price or the names. I waited another hour, loitering around. Strangely, he was nowhere to be seen today. I cursed my fate; the question of how I was going to spend the rest of the day without it loomed large. Feeling all dejected and angry, I began a slow march of retreat.
As I neared the railway crossing, I felt my heart skip a beat as my eyes caught sight of the most beautiful woman of my life walking towards me; my wife! All the years of not being with her found me wanting to hug her and kiss her and strangely for a brief moment, I fancied making love to her, although I soon dismissed that thought. What can a man wearing diapers and had no control on his nerves possibly do? Our eyes met, she smiled at me, rather dryly. “You are dying bit by bit with each day” she said coming close to me. I wasn’t sure if there was concern or contempt in her tone or was it only sympathetic. “I know, I can’t really help it” said I, unsure of what else to say. She stood looking at me in silence, her eyes doing the interrogation. I knew she hadn’t forgiven me. She had loved me more than I did and had left no stone unturned in trying to help me quit my habits. But, bad habits are not the sins that can be washed off by taking a dip in a holy river. I hung my head in shame, the guilt overpowering the joy of seeing her. “I am not sure if you will see me again, I am sorry” I said. “I have to go”, she mumbled with a sigh as she turned her back on me. “I love you”, I said, my voice failing me. There was no reply. She had disappeared as quickly as she had come. Contrition, every inch of my body was being pricked by it. What had happened to me was not because I chose to be so. One imperceptible mistake, one burning desire to try everything that is indulging, starting from one small thing leading to another, and too quickly, before I could realize had aggravated and engulfed me. I did not realise back then where I would end up in the future. But I know now for sure as to what went wrong. How I wish I could go back in time and set it right! I wish those time machines from the movies and books were for real. I wonder, what if...
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pang in my chest. Emotional moments did no good for my already weak heart. I needed to rest. The shade on a slope under the bridge appeared to be a perfect spot to sprawl. I descended as slowly as I could and lied down on my back. There was nobody around and I tried to calm myself by staring at the white and black clouds playing a hide-and-seek in a blue sky. I think about fifteen minutes had elapsed, when I heard a monkey chattering. To my right at a fair distance was a small boy meddling with a white jar and the monkey whose neck was ornamented by a chain the other end of which was in the boy’s hands was jumping on its hind legs, sometimes trying to hit the boy with its fore legs and sometimes trying to fold it as if it were pleading. The boy sunk his head into the jar which had a big enough opening for it and each time he did so, the monkey screeched. It did not take me much time to realize what the boy was doing. I got up and inched closer towards him. He did not see me coming as he was occupied with sniffing the jar, a glue jar. “Aye, stop doing that!” I said, trying to sound as commanding as possible. He lifted his head and looked at me in bewilderment. Having suffered enough from addiction and sacrificed all of my life for it, I could not stand the sight of a young boy going along the same path. “What is wrong with it? This is so much ‘fun’ ” he said, oblivious of its aftermath. How do I make a kid understand the ill effects of addiction? I wondered. “Do you want to die?” I asked. He flashed his brown teeth at me and said “Of course not. I came here to make money.” After persistently questioning, he told me that he had left his village in dream of making it big in the city. He had tamed a monkey and used it to perform on the streets. Initially it was his only companion but now he had a lot of friends who were like him and all of them did different things to earn their living but lived together and ate together. Devoid of anyone to look after them, they had got sucked into the vicious circle of addiction. “We smoke beedis, drink cough syrups, eat pain balms and inhale the smell of glues. Some of my friends do much more than that. I feel very relaxed and it makes me forget the entire world. Life couldn’t have been any better than this!” he said, his face beaming, unaware of the tangle they were getting into. I felt uneasy and disgusted. Kids who were supposed to be going to school and learning a lot of things were entering a lion’s den. A feeling gripped me that I too was in a way responsible for their current state. May be if I had a child and if it had followed the footsteps of its father, I would have known this pain much earlier and may be I would have forced myself to quit my habits. But these kids, who have they got? Their path had digressed and nobody bothered for them. Should I?
I did not focus on trying to convince him to let go of his habits, as something stronger and deeper thought had started running through my mind. Life now was offering a third option to me. That very moment I decided to spend the rest of my life, however little time I had, in trying to educate others about the ill effects of drugs. A very queer thought, I felt, as I myself was still unable to come out of it. Where all the effects in rehabilitating had failed, where love had also given up, I saw a noble cause pulling me out of my past. Will I be able to make it? For the first time in so many years, I felt confident that I will be able to do something with a strong motive and a firm determination, something which had long disappeared in me. All of us live with our past. All of us allow it to shape our future. But some of us know how to shrug the past. I think that is who I am. I clenched my fist and punched the air with a big grin. I had finally found the purpose of my life. I will collaborate with some NGO and do my best, right from tomorrow and of course I will no more be a victim of addiction anymore. “I will see you soon” I said to the boy, like a man of confidence. The boy got up and started sprinting from the place, yelling “Bye Uncle!”, and the obedient monkey raced with him. There is always someone who loves us and tries to help us out. If only we care to listen to them; my thoughts went back to my wife. I tried to get on my legs. For the first time, future excited me. But I guess the poor heart didn’t stand my excitement, again. Another pain shot through my chest, as if I was struck by a lightning. I clenched my fist on my heart and tried to breathe through my mouth. My vision became blurry. My legs gave up and I collapsed.
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