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Articles: Short Stories | Me and Suicide
- Miss Nijam Niranjan
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I was chit chatting with my father on phone jovially explaining about that bafoon tutor who came to teach us rational thinking class. We enjoyed that. But only one thing was lingering in my ears 'such people (like me) don’t deserve to live'. Every body there got surprised and hoped that I don’t understand. But I understood. I somehow got disturbed inside though I looked cheeerful and pretended to have a deaf ear to that. The only mistake I did was I asked a stupid question to him.
There, another person who passed his Engineering in the first class was emotionally upset and wanted suggestions from this guy. This guy narrated that a boy goes to suicide if he fails his exams and you are great atleast you did engineering.
Suddenly it came like thunder. I recollected the number of backlogs I had when I was doing engineering. We were always in the sports room. Enjoyed life. Also some problems with the University changes made us funk few exams..
Some how I became something, now this guy reminds me of everything that happened in the past.. Flash back appeared before my eyes, how I felt bad when I failed Digital Signal processing for the second time, came home and thought only if I were dead, as I was always a first rank student. (Also for the past 6 months things are not working fine in the office. For the past 6 months or so there was no friendly environment there. People being very impolite, back talking, using bad language, making comments had become very prevalent. This is pertaining to every level.)
I went up to the computer table and wrote Marana Vangmoolam. Childlishly I added everybody’s name in the list who all made comments, who tortured, who was impolite who was using bad language, including the teacher etc as responsible. Then I took a print out and left the idea for the next Nagarjun Sagar Trip.
With all these thoughts in the mind I slept. Next day I attend the class. Everybody in the class laughing at my grades in college and told that I better die. From there I went running to the work place where all my colleagues too were laughing and said the same to me., which made me to prepone the plan.
On my way home I thought of jumping into Tank Bund, but got frightened to jump. I wanted an easy death. I came home, I suddenly went into the bath room, searched for a blade and cut the nerve. Nothing happened. I got frightened.
There were some sleeping tablets that were prescribed for my mother, I suddenly took all of them and went to sleep thinking that next day I would not get up.
7 0'clock Saturday morning, my digital calendar alarm was making lot of noise, My father came to me already dressed up and asking me to get up for the morning walk. The sleeping tablets too did not work. I did not have the guts to tell My Father any thing. I just walked with him.
While walking my father as usual narrated quotes 'Past is Past, Future is not in your hands, Present is like a present given to you by God, so don’t waste it. Life is not there to earn degrees or bucks. Life is there to identify SELF. Identify what you are? Who you are? Where you are from? Moksham is what we are to attain. That is reality. This world is not real. Its an imagination.
Suddenly whole world started looking different, those Jasmine flowers to the trees, the smell, the sampenga trees, their smell all over made the morning very beautiful. The sun beam falling in between the leaves which had small rain drops in them looked very beautiful. The green grass underneath the foot made the world GREEN. It looked like I was in the Heaven. Or if there is any other world higher to that I was there.
Was a good starting of the day. Hope all days are Sundays. I proposed to go to Ashram that day ( bunking the next day class.) I went and meditated and promised God I am not going to make any more suicide attempts.
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