Futile

The building and the vans standing outside were all white. The signboards were all in red. The smell of disinfectants ate into my senses as I walked past the reception of the multi-specialty hospital. Before making my way to the lift, I glanced at the signboards.

INTENSIVE CARE UNIT
5th Floor

I took out a piece of paper and read the details once again. Ward number one, Bed number twelve.

The lift buzzed its way up to the 5th Floor. As soon as the automated doors opened, I stepped onto the floor. The strong smell of disinfectants once again came swarming in one me. A nurse was walking down from across the aisle. She gave me a quizzing smile.

“Which side is Ward one? I have a friend, Akhtar……”

It didn’t take much time for her to remember.

“Oh, the Bed number twelve, walk to the end of the corridor and turn left.”

I thanked her and made my way towards the ward. I wondered how humans become numbers once in a while. In different circumstances different numbers.

The ward came in sight. From behind the large glass partition, I could see bed number twelve situated right in the middle of the room. There he is, on the bed, inert, his body attached to innumerable medical equipments. The hollow silence of the ward was being intermittently breached by the beeps from the machines.
.
Till a few days back, he was a lively young man, smoking, drinking, partying, pulling a fast one or two on his friends, like everyone his age does. Today, on that bed, living on borrowed time, he is merely a smashed heap of human flesh, breathing in spurts. Dead below the waist, with a head that cannot move, I could sense that a mind still alert registered my presence.

As I looked at him, my mind flooded with the past. Those moments, the jokes that he cracked, the hearts that he touched, the canteen group escapades, all came whizzing in, as though filling up the vacuum created by the sight of him.

He could see my eyes going moist. His hand moved, commanding me to sit by his side.
I held his hand and we looked into each others eyes. Seconds, minutes passed. I could not hold my sight, a drop or two found their way out. I could feel the futility of his being.

I wanted so much to leave and run as far as I could from the reality which lay besides me. I stood up and looked at him. He smiled. Did he? Was it merely a mirage created by my mind?
Quickly, I turned my back in order to leave. It is then that I felt a pull on my sleeve. It was his hand. I turned back and looked at him.

He spoke and his words were like a thousand needles being thrust into my body.

“Friend, can you tell them? Do something, please. I want to die!!!”

Vijay © 12th June, 2006


P.S: Re-written from a poem I had penned in February of last year. My recent experiences are making me look into this issue once again.