LOST

1. Somethings Wrong

Day 1 : 12/5/17

The feeling of sickness. The feeling of having no desire to live. The inexplicable wish of an apocalypse which wipes you off from the face of Earth. That's exactly how one feels when waking up from a deep nights sleep. Too tired to sleep. Too lazy to get up. I was no different. Unwillingly pushed myself up, stepped out, tumbled and fell to the floor. Crappy day, crappy things. I rose up and looked out of the window. The sight you see on looking out of the window on the seventh floor of a magnificent city like Kolkata just bewilders you. The view was mesmerising but there was something about the air. I don't know why but there was a deadly stillness in the air. So quiet, so silent, as if no living creature treaded this beautiful planet.

"Mom!" I yelled, I don't know why but I did. No response. "MOM". Not a slight noise. I lazily walked into the living room. No one there. My parents must have gone for a walk. Now what can a person do when he is home alone and has no work to do. He sleeps. I went back and dozed off on my bed. It took few minutes and I was asleep again. An Indian teenager loves two things - 1. Sleep. 2. Wake up and sleep again. My eyes were exposed to the blaring sun again at 10:30. I had slept for 4 hrs after waking up from a sleep of 8 hrs. Must be a record. " Mom, can I get something to eat" , I yelled walking towards the kitchen. She wasn't there. I scanned the house from top to bottom. No sight of her anywhere. No sight of mom, no sight of dad. Their bedsheet looked crease-less as if no one had ever slept on it. Where had they gone? I opened the door and walked out of the apartment. Something startled me. The shoe rack was neatly arranged. Nothing fascinating about that my father loves discipline/neatness/ blah blah. What WAS fascinating was that their shoes were not missing. Gone out barefoot? What are they? Cavemen? I tried hard to think of any instance where they might have told me about where they would go such a resplendent morning. No results. I walked in. Picked up the phone called my father and a melodious tune of guitar was heard in the apartment. Left his phone? He never does that. Who cares? They are out. I am alone. I genuinely felt like what Indians must have felt after independence. "Free to do anything". There's something weird about humans. When you are under restrictions, you die to do what you want and when the restrictions been lifted you have no idea what to do with life. All the excitement faded within 15 minutes of independence. Indians mustn't have felt this way. I surfed the net. No one online. Turned on the TV. Kept surfing. Nothing to watch. Tried reading a book. And then I tried harder to not throw it away, in vain. It was 12. No sign of my parents. That's it. Decided. I slipped in my shoes. Took the keys. Ran out of the flat. Then boarded the lift. And walked out to the free atmosphere that kept us alive. A walk, I thought, might drive boredom away. I might bump into someone, marry them and live happily ever after. Sarcasm.

One stroll of the entire complex and not a soul bumped into me. Maybe no one interested in a wedding. I'll die alone. Stupid baseless thoughts. I spent nearly half an hour walking up and down the road. Even the atmosphere had bored me to death. Still no signs of my parents. Hours of boredom and death and the clock struck 5. Time to play. I rushed to the field opposite my block. Finally, after hours of idleness, something to do. I felt like I had found the motive of life. I felt like I knew why I was born. Football. A teenagers ambition graph fluctuates more than the graph of a cubic equation. I reached the field and the sight that met my eyes literally bled me to death. No one there. Graph drops to zero. Running parallel to X-axis. No Y-coordinate. And then awoke the philosopher in me. "Practise makes a man perfect". Maybe others would turn up by then. I don't know why but I felt doubt, I felt that I knew no one will come. After 10 mins of lunatic dribbling and aimless shooting I waved a hand to the philosopher me as he boarded the train to Neverland. Where were they?. I was tired. Too tired. But the absence of a living soul around me was beginning to scare me. I hadn't seen a man today. Men. Women. Children. Birds. These are what makes you feel that everything's normal. Where were they? Socially boycotting me? What had I done? Bought British goods in 1870. I wasn't alive then. My father wasn't born then. My grandfather wasn't born then. Why am I thinking this?

I went back to my condo. I had my dinner. All I had eaten the entire day was nothing but Maggie. I realised my mother was right. Should have learnt to cook. Or I could have bought a hotel with the millions that evade my pockets. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sit, I couldn't stand, I couldn't think, I couldn't do anything a normal human does. And how could I? Was I in NORMAL situation, were the things around me NORMAL, were the people around me NORMAL? There weren't any. I went back to end the day the way I started it. To sleep. That's the moment I knew something was wrong. I couldn't sleep. Maybe because I had slept too much. Maybe because my parents had deserted me and gone missing. Maybe because I didn't meet anyone today. Maybe because no one turned up to play. Never has it happened that the roads of GFC weren't traversed by residents. Never has it happened that I had to spend a day without my parent's presence. Not a day. Not a single day.

I was puzzled then, I am clear now. I was confused then, I am aware now. I was curious then, I am answering now. I was sad then, I am worse now. Not a day passes by when I don't wish I hadn't gone to sleep the night before. Not a moment passes when I don't wish I hadn't woken up that particular cursed morning. I wish, I just wish.......
                                     

(Continued in Chapter 2: Illusion of Safety)