LOSER

It’s been a week now since she exited my life through the narrowest outlets present. I won’t go into the details of the event, if you may call it that. No! Standing nervously on this chair, I don’t have much time to render the entire tale. This past week, from Monday through Friday, I have cried and thought about suicide and now I am standing on this high chair, with a noose in hand and a prayer on my lips that the fan holds steady and bears 75 kilogrammes.

To put it in a nutshell, I won’t blame her for what happened. No sir! That would not be fair, but knowing that your self is to be blamed for ending a long standing beautiful relationship, you would not want to live long, would you?

“Damn this rope, I wonder how they tie the noose so easily in the movies. Maybe they have readymade nooses available in the shops.”

I have tried rationalising the situation many a time and have found ample reasons against such a literally life-threatening decision (I don’t call it life-ending as I still don’t believe this old fan would hold steady) But the truth is that I have found enough to counter those reasons too. My life has a big vacancy now. I have so much more time and I don’t know what to do with it. I’m not a person with ample ambitions, neither am I one with many friends. As a 23 year old with the entire life ahead of him, I simply do not know what to do. Defeatist attitude you call it? Loser you call me? Well, good then. I’ll behave aptly.

“Ah! Finally, this knot should hold good. And now to garland this rope of death around my neck. Hmmm! Not bad at all. This is turning out to be easier than I thought.”

I have stopped talking to her; that would only draw me into the deadly swirl of the pleasant memories of the past and I would be consumed in an instant. I know that. I tried talking to her last week and that’s what happened. It takes five minutes of conversation with an ex-lover to undo all the ostensibly nice things you have done to your self, like encouraging it to slowly forget the past and say the nicest of things like ‘Life goes on’ and you know…things like what you find in the ‘Chicken soup for the failed lover’ books.

“Now I’m all set; the rope strongly around the fan and around my neck as well. Three mighty tugs now. Strong inward breath; One, Two, and Three! That does it. Testing over and now for the final plunge.”

I do not, fortunately have much time left, my parents will be here any time now. I strongly believe that what I am doing is not an unwanted task. Its better the world rids itself of a loser. Surprised? When did I ever refute that tag? I totally agree and as I said, act in accordance.

“Ok! Here I go. Rope strong enough, I hope. Everything is in place. Legs on tip of the tall back rest of the chair. I only have to kick the chair to test the veracity of heaven and hell. And rebirth and karma as well. Ok! I’ll stop sounding like a Hindu priest and kick my way to death. Here goes…”



Afterword

There was pain; the strangulation around the throat was unbearable. My legs flayed in the air in a scissoring action when the door burst open and in came my father, my strong father. In an instant I was on the floor and gasping for breath drinking greedily the water my tearful mom gave me. I glanced around the room mindless of the questions my mom was throwing at me. The window! How thoughtless of me to leave the window open. The fan stood steady, bore the 75 kilogramme weight, but the window let me down. If not, they would have thought I was still sleeping. Through the steady barrage of words that were spouting out of my parents’ mouths, I was able to think and realised one thing. I was indeed a loser!

---