I'm Dying

1.

Sometimes when you look at the clear sky, you don't feel happy. It's like a tearing feeling as if it's gonna consume you and you would vanish.

Suman sat in her chamber thinking if you really need to be invisible to not be noticed. People can still smile at you and not know what's bugging you, that you are unhappy. People can walk over and still be so self-obsessed that they don't stop you from jumping off the cliff. She immediately rolled her head, rubbed her temples, and felt irked that she was having this fluid feeling of relief whenever she thought of jumping off. Nobody knew from where. She was dismissive of such behavior but what can one do, when the only solace in the world is to think about how it can stop spinning around you?

Her breathing increased as she thought of the possible consequences her vague but somber ideas could bring in her job. She can be fired, honestly. In the Army, you are committed to living for the country. Getting martyred is different and murdering yourself in your thoughts sitting in your chamber as an Army Doctor is freaky and bizarre.

She heard a commotion at the door, saw her nurse Garima entering with her usual fuss. There was some old man walking at a slow pace with clutches. She squinted her eyes at him, that how willing he was to get fine and healthy, his face red and fleshy- his determination to walk again plated over his face. Garima paged a file at her face, going through the details of his accident 3 weeks ago, she could see the man smiling at her- making her weak in the stomach. 
Pardon me! she mumbled instantly, as if- just for a minute, she didn't want the world to stop spinning.

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'So you think it shall be fine?' Shravan gripped the receiver tightly. He could hear his lawyer sigh, talking about the fact that if the matter kept on stretching like that and if the media refreshed their memory of Devraj as a criminal, it shall prove fatal to their case. He talked about how media trial was like a shadow- unreal, hollow but visible. That it can follow them in the seams of the court, and if a jury sits- it can make their chances of -not guilty- less. 

Shravan had deduced that Suman would fight the case on his father's negligence. It would be about morality and ethics and whatnot, but he can't give in. He can't let the news channels have their fodder of TRP, to again trouble his fragile family.

Suman Tiwari will take her case back. By hook or by crook.

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'Captain Tiwari!' Shravan called out, standing on the threshold of his rented room. He wore his vest and put his muscles to show. He sometimes thought if he would lose a piece of his mind to Suman just like he had lost all of his heart to her 7 years ago. 

'Yes, Captain Malhotra!' She stiffened and barely wanted to stand anymore. It felt like her inners were dissolving whenever he talked to her as if he was going to steal the credibility of her existence.

'Can you make a schedule of your filthy plans?' Shravan was nonchalant with his language as if he was asking her for a dinner date. 'When do you plan to kill my father?' his eyes oozed lava of agony and bewilderment on how Suman had changed for the worst.

Suman could feel herself biting the dermis of her cheeks. She wanted to cut her tongue and throw it away and maybe she wanted to apologize, just like she had wished several times. Her eyes were boring his gaze. Even if he emitted pure hatred and his hands clenched in fists of loathe towards her, she wanted to consume him. And then something snapped inside her, which broke her, made her feel hollow. 'Your words are venom. Save them from getting manifested.' She turned around on her heels, trying to feel her skin but failing miserably. She could hear Shravan mumble something under his breath and then shut the door with a bang. 

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Suman turned on the shower. But she wasn't getting wet. It was a delusion. She knew that. Water can't wash her dirt, that she has grown and accumulated over the years. One night, and she didn't remember how long ago, she had rubbed herself till she could see blood raise till her skin. The water drenching her skin had turned light red, and she still could feel the heaviness of her chest, the hotness of her tears against her shivering and wet body. That day, when she had gone to the bed, she could no more hear the words of her father's letter which she had burned a lifetime ago. Even if the ink and paper had vanished she couldn't forget what a miserable disappointment she had caused her father. That how she had turned her mother's despair and death more painful. She could just feel the pain that erupted from her body, beating like a heartbeat, like a rhythm. Blood- always made her feel better. Red was her favorite color and his too.

As she took the razor in her hand, her hair dripping of the illusion of bathing and cleaning, she thought of the filthy plans she had made, according to Shravan. He thinks that she is going to kill his father. How silly of him to think it that way! If he knew that she was still trying to save herself, by cutting her skin little by little.

Suman made a small cut on her lower leg. She saw blood raise to her skin as it went red and then scarlet, and then she let it drip- drop by drop, till she felt the stinging pain of Shravan's voice, when he told how much he hated her. 
'But, I love you Shravan' she fisted her mouth with her hands, trying hard to mumble and not scream. Suddenly she could hear the unlocking of Shravan's SUV, it was different, a jingle she had preserved in her heart. He raced the car but didn't leave the break, it created a drum in the Tiwari house, as he wanted Suman to see where he was going.

Suman tightened her bathrobe, and spilled the razor in the nearest drawer in a hurry, and saw if any of her cuts were visible. Checking it again, she sprinted towards her balcony and looked down to see Shravan look at her back again. 'I don't have time.' he barked, lowering his window. 

For a moment, it felt she was dreaming. Like, was he really calling her for a drive?
If he would ever notice, she wasn't angry at his practically insolent behavior. 

'Veer's gonna get sick. Period.' He again announced and just then Suman remembered that her 7-year-old cousin needed medicines and Shravan had been talking about that all along.

'Coming.' she felt her mouth say. Nowadays, she barely remembers who she is.
She wonders if he can notice this too.
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As Suman walked towards the car, wearing a long shrug in the context of early Bhopal winter, Shravan couldn't help but notice that she had worn off considerably. There was a loss of everything, from her smile to her glow, and maybe, her liveliness. Suman opened the door to the car and seated herself, and said a 'Hi!' 

Shravan felt his eyes plopping, as he looked at her, trying hard to smile as if they were going on some date. Her eyes were glassy. Was she crying? 

He thought that it's good to be strong, but Suman was just trying. She was vain, and he would expose her skin. He promised.
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