Chapter 3: The Letter


"Dear Mama and Dada,
I know this would come as a shock to you and probably leave you wondering what went wrong and eventually blame yourselves for what had transpired. Let me reassure you that you are not to blame, its my own decision to end this insanity. I am tired, tired of living a pointless existance.Not knowing the purpose of it all.Please do not take up the burden of blame that you have not brought me up well, in fact you did all and more than any other parents would do. I can still remember the first time when you hugged me, as I tripped and fell......."

Memories flash by, as I started the letter.It was like a series of pictures which flash by when you rewind the tape while playing. I can still remember the old house where I spent the first few years of my life, with in grandparents house while my dad was away on a voyage. My mom told me he saw me for the first time when I was 8months old. He was a Captain of a "big,big ship" like I used to boast to my friends splaying my arms as far as they would stretch. My mother, the most beautiful woman in my life who would bring me up filling up the void my dad would leave when he went off on his voyages, to make money so that his kid would never be hungry or be deprived of all the beautiful things in the world which he was denied when he was young.

I was subject to a lot of pampering when dad was in town, my mom now thats a different story, she was the ironfist.Bringing up a hyperactive kid like me was tough work, and I sadly shattered the dreams of my parents of having another kid. I was a lot to handle and this made my parents decide against another monster, which I learnt later.

I can still remember the odd bits and pieces of my childhood, just like an old faded photograph, or that scratchy old film which you can see on the VHS tape.My first day at school, thinking back now I find it surprising that the memory is quite clear. I remember hugging my mother in the soft cotton saree in which I buried my tear streaked face. I brawled and wailed at the top of my voice, and the "Aayaa'' as we called the maids in school, taking me away from my mom. I thought my mom was giving me away to the bogeyman, like in the countless stories you hear when you misbehave or do not eat your food.The stark change in smell from the freshly startched saree to the sweaty one of the "Aayaa". My pitiful cries to my mom promising that I will behave myself and that I will not throw stones or tie coconut leaves on neighbours dog.

It was pitiful, folks thought I will get to like the school and education will sober me up.Afterall my mom stood in the blistering March sun to obtain admission, as it was one of those uptight elite schools which you need to reserve a seat well before advance like when the kid is born or around an year or so.

It only got worse, years passed.Never was the boy, who parents dream of growing up to learn and top the class. Always the kid whose parents make a regular tour to the school since he is always in trouble. My mates at one point thought my mom taught at school, so regular were her visits.

Got caught smoking in 7th grade, with some misguided kids older by a couple of years. My ass was belted red by my mom and also to top it off my poor poor mother had to come over to the school next day, to beg the principal, the huge beady eyed creature who was/is still a spinster. She finally gave in to my mother with me in the tow, and I also received a lecture on how tolerant my mother is and how my she cares for my "quality education" in that dipweed school.

Trouble always took a liking to me and followed me doggedly and I did nothing to discourage it. Still remember the first time I made out with a girl.It was a hot summer afternoon after school and was waiting for the "girlfriend" to come down after her extra classes. Then both of us comtemplated which loo to use for "privacy". She won and we ended up in the girls loo. Stood there for a minute or two, unable to make the first move. Call it nerves, but kissed her first time on the cheek and when she moved her lips to meet mine. Then the whole world broke loose. She unbuttoned my shirt as I did hers and the first touch of her breasts got me thinking "Damn this is not at all like I imagined!"

Then, at that right moment when either of us are unsure as to what to do next the school maid chooses this moment to spring upon us. It was as if she was standing near the door watching the whole film and decided that its time for the interval.Anyways, there we were exploring the puberty to its hilt and on springs the surprise. My girl saw her first and without warning, closed the door on me. So, I guess it was quite a sight for the maid, to see me with my shirt out and hair looking as if I have been under electro-shock therepy gone wild. I did what would be the first reaction of any guy in such circumstances.I shouted "Fuck!!!" and tried to shut myself in the next loo. Too late the maid caught me by the collar and booted me out( probably she did not enjoy her sex life as much!) and I did the next best thing, I ran home!

The night was full of nightmares, thinking I might have got the girl pregnant by kissing her, that I had 2 kids (not twins though, dont ask how many times I did her!) one for each time I kissed her. The next thing to follow is my folks getting to know it and me getting married to the girl and being kicked out of the house. Not that I would mind "marrying" her, afterall she was the "love" of my life.Anyways come morning and I had the usual fever and "something else" that pains a lot somewhere near the heart. my mom now used to these sudden bouts of pain managed to get me ready for school. The school bus horn sounded like the hangman's trumpet.

Finally entered the classroom full of apprehension expecting my mates to give me the sad ugly duckling look, but received none. This got my spirits up a little, until the teacher started with the attendance. All the numbers were called. Mine was 36, an the teacher went on "33,34,35,37,38.. " missed mine by the simple headed me just assumed that she might have overlooked and after the last number was called, I jumped up with my hand high up in the air, "Miss, you missed my number, I am here". Pat, I got the reply "Yes, I do see that, would you mind joining me out!" Ok, now the fight for survival starts! Got out of the class and the next statement from my teacher starts "What were you doing yesterday after school?" I was just dumbstruck, so the bitch of a maid got my teacher into the loop." Errrr, nothing I went home!". Yeah, right as if that would help. "I heard you were upto to something in the girls bathroom last afternoon!". Damn, she got me there." No, it was not me!". As if it was at that oppurtune moment I have an identical twin brother.How I wish that was true. The principal wants to have a word with you!". It was more like the death sentence hearing for a convict who knew his sentence but needs to hear the final words from the judge after a lengthy trial.

Just get over it, kill me better than to chuck me out, since thats what I bet my mom is going to do. It was the longest walk to the principals office, kinda felt like walking up to the gallows.I came into the office fully expecting the girl to be there too, but was in for another shock. There was no girl, but there was the whole board of teachers, all giving the nasty stares which seem to say "yeah, we know what you did you little dipweed, exploring sex at your age when we dont even get it at our age, watch us rip your sensual soul apart!" The issue also in question here was that they were unable to find out who the girl was. I can never to this day imagine how she was able to get out of that loo without being caught by the maid! Maybe its a consipiracy theory in the making.

They started asking me who the girl was, at this moment the hero in me came out, I love her afterall dont I and its not right for me to insult her chaste nature by spilling the beans on her out to these monsters, who would come between us. I would rather go down like a tragic hero but would never let these people know who I was "making love" to and also where I learnt "unparlimentry language". Alas, the sad influence of movies on me.

Was "interogatted" for almost an hour, when asked it was always "I dont know!". They tried sweettalk and pressure but its of no avail on this "hero". Then came the talk of getting my mom involved in this "discussion". No friggin' way in hell can I allow that to happen, so out come the tears and I ran to the principal and begged her never to repeat this, I will take up any punishment but please dont allow my mom into this. It took a lot but my persuassion skills won over, I was left out with a "strong warning" which included an imposition and extra work after school to clean the "PT" room. Done, I would have happily wiped clean all the bathrooms and also the principals ass if asked.

Got out of the room, proud as a peacock that I have survived the "test of love" by not revealing my girls name and I would be the hero. But, things did not work out quite the way I planned. The "girl" never spoke to me after that and soon later found another "hero" for herself. I was shattered and heartbroken. Vowed never to fall for another girl again and I would die a bachleor ever in the memory of my "Lost Love". The flipside, thanks to a couple of teachers kids, the whole affair was blown apart and soon I was the Mr. Popular, who really "did it" and the "guy who has it"., alongwith the girls giving me the sly looks and the other chaps envious stares. I became the overnight star for sex education which I exploited to the fullest.

The whole affair was soon brought to a sudden halt after I flunked that year!

Chapter:2 - Confessions of a Drugged Mind

Finished the joint, the last drag really hit the roof. "Comfortably numb" as Roger Waters puts it, I got back into the car and hit the road. This was the usual routine too, stopping to light up a joint and continuing the drive. Crazy you might want to term it, but for me it just helps to take my mind off things and bring the much needed calm to the nerves.

The traffic ahead with all the lights now bloomed into multi-dimensional colourful patterns. Its was just the weed acting on me, this made the drive more enjoyable. Morbid thoughts entered and left at the same moment. The temptation to drive over the edge seemingly siezed me, but
was able to bring it under control.

"beep,beep,beep...." "damn!" that was my phone,"yeah", "hey Sahil, whore!! wassup man, where are ya??" this was an old aquaintence of mine Ajay, one of the few guys who let me be when I wanted my space, and now, he sounded equally stoned."Doing just great man!, am still in the office!" usual lie to cut short the conversation. "Fuck the goddamn office dude, come over to my place, the guys are here and remember Deepak he is back from UK and he got neat shit liqour!"
Another party another day of hangover and promises to myself never to drink again, not today. Today is my day."No AJ, I guess I will pass, listen am on my way to the meeting, will catchya later!""As usual 'ho get a goddamn life!" He hung up, typical him.

My body aches, 6 years is a long time, time where I realised that i gotto fight on my own.Sometimes I feel too long. I look back and see that, though I have been walking non-stop, I don't seem to have covered much distance. I have been walking in circles, I guess. It could
also be the size of the room I am walking in, of course. Why am I even here?What do I get out of walking about so much other than developing acute claustrophobia? Its silly, really. I know I can open that stupid door and breathe fresh air. I know I can walk outside and achieve so much more. I know I can remove the crabby look of unnecessary concentration on my face and replace it with a happy smile. I know I can do that. I just have to focus on walking to that door. Didn't I just say that the room was small? Why does the door seem so far away? Its all in my mind, I know. I am trying so hard to balance myself and yet, I don't seem to be doing so well. Or is it that because expectations are so high, even the smallest mis-step seems like a colossal blunder? Are we losing our perspective here?Maybe its because of the eggshells on the floor. Or maybe it's just me.

This will end today, it can be stopped, the boredom, the eternal questions, the seemingly endless chase in a circular room and trying to find the answers in a corner that does not exist. Its not the troubles or hurdles which made me come by this decision. Its just the sheer pointless existance which always has the predictble end.

Its the weed speaking, as always the random thoughts which make sense at the same time strip out the reasoning, perhaps we live our entire lives trying to maintain our equilibriums, equilibrium in our relationships, where you have forgiven the past sins and not pre-occupied with the fear of current one being committed.Equilibrium at our workplace where you hope your past performance will serve you well and your current projects will keep you from getting fired.Equilibrium in our financial security, where you have come to terms with your past poverty and hope the current reserveswill carry you good for couple more years. It seems we keep yearning for that peace of mind, settled feeling; like the calmness and beauty of vastness of ice in Alaska you saw last week in Discovery channel!! Until that happens, a part of your brain remains in siege of the problem. Your Life is on hold, you are incapable of enjoying and experiencing even the good things that happen in the interim because there is a bigger problem still lurking at the back of your mind.How to maintain the darn "Equilibrium"?

Finally reached my lonely pad, my apartment. The watchman was sleeping as usual and I had to open the gate myself, no point in waking up others by honking my car horn. I hate the damn
music in the lift, the same draby tune of Mozart who would trun over in his grave if he heard it, which now sounded really loud owing to the silence of the night.I was a little sober now, opened the door and turned on the lights, can hear the rat running among the dishes as it scurrys across the kitchen platform.

I tried setting up the rat trap when I first noticed it, but gave it up as it seemed clever enough not to fall for it, an in my opinion its a shame to kill something intelligent.Cliche' when you come to think about it. So, here I am in my apartment which shall be my last abode.

Thoughts formed in my head, what will happen when my maid discovers my body the next morning. Its funny actually how we call a person by name all his life and once he dies he immediately becomes another "body". No longer will even his loved ones in the
remorse will refer to him by his name,"Lets move the body!" "So, where is the "body" being
cremated!"
It just becomes one of the widely accepted hipocrasies, and soon enough time the greatest healer will wipe out the memories of the person until he is nothing more than just a picture on the wall or an old family album.

Wondered how I should go about doing it, I have decided to hang myself and also bought a bright yellow nylon rope which seemed sturdy enough to hold my 76kgs of weight. Now, I am having doubts it the goddamn fan on the ceiling would hold up, it would involve a lot of embrassing questions if the fan just buckles under my weight and knocks me out cold.

Hit upon another idea of dropping in the micowave in the bathtub and turning it on, but I know that way would be painful and would not kill instantly so trashed that idea too.
Slitting my wrist, now that sounds like it would work. So, voila I guess that would really do, if only I can manage it properly.When I have decided to end my life I knew I need to let the
people know why I came by this decision, hate the idea of leaving my loved ones without a reason.

This brought up another question, should I write a long letter explaining myself or should it be by e-mail, absurd as it sounds. Finally decided to go with the old fashioned letter. Took up the pen and sat down on the office stationary which was in plenty around the house, one more advertising media for my company, come to think of it.

Chapter 1: Me, Myself and I

"Sahil, do you have that presentation ready for BCP with client tonight?" damn the man he never misses a beat to corner me, it was my manager. The huge hulk of a guy with surprisingly tiny palms and a brow ever creased in a perpetual frown."yes Dutta I do, we might need to cut this one a little tight owing to the productivity issues, the last module release is littered with bugs and we had to recall and revamp the code."Just another day with this Corporate concubine, been here for the last 6years and hopefully not anymore if things go my way.
The meeting was as usual again, with the usual bickering and clash of accents of 8 different people all over the world pouring over their Tele-Con phones. Just the usual show of importance and even the stifiling suspense which really excited me had now become one of those deary chapters in a book, which you were forced to finish since you started it.I am tired, 16years of education to numb my senses and 6 years of work to beat me into submission.Finished earlier than expected, the client succumbed to our pleas and agreed to extend the release date of the code by another month. I just looked at my watch 23:40 glowed the digital.
Walked the way to my car, one of the new ones on the market which I was really exicited about and my first car(should be my last.. if everything goes according to my plan!) Still have another 3years of loan on the car which needs paying up, that does not worry me anymore. I have made up my mind.The rain starts pouring, "Saab, kay aaj jaldi ghar ja rahen hai?'"
The usual plastic smile and nod of my head seems to satisfy the watchman, I guess the only guy who geniunely cares that everybody leaves for home on time and nobody is left behind. Got into the car, and hit the crazy Bangalore streets which are now even worse compounded by the weather. The city is a classic example of "India Shining" campaign, it grew too fast with all the software majors influx and the city's infrastructure which was not able to cope up with this sudden "Big Bang" this city went through. The result, terrible roads with a messy death lurking in every pot hole or the even chance of the roaring truck to mow your vehicle down.I can hear the tinny drumbeat of rain drops as they hit the roof of my car, the ethreal glow of the tachometer on the dashboard. The road was hard to see as the trucks pass me with the muffled roar, and the wipers as they chase eachother on the windshield.
The downpour increased as if keeping up with the tempo of Bob Dylan playing on the stereo. I pull up the car, near a old car shack with a board reading "Siva Sankar Panchar Shap". Its amazing how we Indians automatically adapt to times and have this innate desire to write everything in English. Some of us even chat in the regional tounge keeping up with the script in English. I opened the dashboard to pull out the crumpled Tamil newspaper which contained the marijuana I bought from the peddler near my office yesterday.
Took pains to clean it and seperate the twigs from the leaves in the warm comfort of my car. Emptied out the cigrette taking care to save some tobacco for the joint. Got out and walked over to the now deserted shack and lit it, taking in the first rush of the smoke as it passes into the lungs and the chemical makes it way up to my brain. Thoughts started forming in my head, as I watched the world rush past me. It was not a snap decision, I had been contemplating on it for almost an year now. But, woke up this morning and decided it has to be today. Today, I will go about my business and once back home, I will kill myself.