I'm Dying

9.

Shravan tossed and turned around in his bed, sleep far away from his eyes. It has been an hour since his latest fall out with Captain Tiwari. It was anything but normal, of course not peaceful. She was hysterical after a lone and obvious phone call from his lawyer. What did she expect? And Suman was known to him for being extremely practical. She could be hurt, but the whole fiasco which took place was unimaginable to him. She was nearly passing out on the lawn and only God knows how she had made her way to her room.

It was impossible for Shravan to sleep. He could not stop thinking about the reasons which led Suman to outburst in such a messy fashion. And then it didn't leave him that her self-guilt wasn't away either. The moment he closed his eyes to stop thinking of anything of such sort, her angry red scars appeared in front of him - clouding his thoughts. 'She has become my dream or nightmare, I don't know...' Shravan mumbled to himself, closing his eyes.

He got up from his bed, suddenly getting a bizarre idea of stealing her diary. It won't matter to him now, of what all accusations shall hit him in the future. It's now or never. He can't wait to let his Suman drown in any disaster- even if she is willing to create that disaster herself. His Suman, he chuckled. What kind of a lovesick puppy was he? It had never made sense and he didn't expect to make any, even this time.
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With no difficulty, Shravan had filtered himself in Suman's room. Firstly, he went to her sleeping figure and checked her breathing. His heart had taken a heavy sprint when he had seen the bottle of sleeping pills, lying in her fisted hands. Her breathing was even and that gave him a sense of relief. Under the influence of those pills, she could barely move a limb, so he saw the opportunity with a silver lining. He tucked Suman in a comforter and looked at her lips, glossed and messed. She had been crying, really hard. Even in front of him.
'I had loved you Shravan!' her scream was still so clear in his ears, hitting like a hurricane in his heart. At that point, it made him feel toiled and easy at the same time. She was crying and calling their love as silly, that how much it had led her down. But he was astonished and a bit cheery to see that their love mattered to her. That she couldn't forget it just like him. He was a bit comforted with the thought that they were stuck in the past but together.

He moved away and grabbed her diary. It was still on her study table, concealed and locked. 'Where's the key?' Shravan questioned himself. It was going to be really laborious to find the keys. Suman was an Army officer, was intelligent. So she would hide anything, and that too so personal, with the best of her ability. He searched her bookshelf, where he found so many books he had seen 7 years back. He searched the drawers, where in the last one he found a small album of 'their' photographs. The cover was fresh, untouched. But the fact was it was still preserved, like a diamond in a locker. 'Handle Delicately' Suman had warned the user. She might have written it a very, very long time ago. When there was nothing but happiness in their previous life.

'Good gracious!' Shravan huffed as he didn't get anything useful in his search endeavor. The only place left was the washroom. He clicked the door and searched. He looked through her toiletries, the cabinet behind the mirror. As he checked the place behind the shower, the sink fascinated him. It was a double-layered sink, and it is possible to find a hollow place between the layers of steel. He tried opening it but found it screwed. 'Damn! Sumo!' Shravan cursed and now started looking for a screwdriver. He again searched the cabinet, towels, and shampoos. He scattered a few more things to make space and got something wrapped in a newspaper. The newspaper was wrinkled and it looked as if it was opened again and again and then wrapped back, almost every day. 'What's that..' Shravan murmured and held the thing in his hand.

It was a razor. Cleaned, washed, and dried. And then wrapped. The sharpness had decreased manifold, because of constant use. He looked at it for quite a long time. He looked at it and imagined it moving across Suman's golden skin. The soft skin, which could be cut little by little with this bluntness- the inevitable pain and scar it could stamp her body with. Shravan didn't know when his eyes were watery and tears had made their way across his cheeks silently, or when he zipped the razor back in one of his pockets. 'I won't let anything harm you Suman, promise.' he swore to god and proceeded back to get the screwdriver.

The screwdriver came in handy in a few minutes. With that, he searched the sink and Eureka! He found the key. He had a small victory moment, heavy breathes, and a sigh of relief. He came out of the door, wishing that no more razors were left there in the bathroom. He got the diary, zipped the key in his pocket, and with a last look on a peacefully sleeping Suman he got himself out of the room.

He picked his phone to drop a message to Bunty. Please get me Gujral's number.
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As time was already past midnight, and having no sleep around his eyes for kilometers together, Shravan decided to go through the diary.

He flipped through pages. But he read each and every word. There were entries, mostly the latest- which made his blood freeze in his veins. It included him as well. There were moments, in which he had passed without a brain in the situation and she had recorded it with a monster intensity. There were wishes and imaginations. And there were rashes of her scars, the pain, and how she felt relieved to have them. How she felt that she at least had control over her wounds and their cure, which could be seen on the outside.

Dear Diary----

And I could hear all those voices again and again. It killed me that how easily, things can crumble into dust and still hover over your body like a second soul. It ruined me, each day.

My favorite cadet!


My father's voice was drumming in my gut the day I was commissioned as an army doctor.
Captain Doctor Suman Tiwari, I pressed the feeling of those words behind my tongue bitter in my gut. Kanchan was away in Ambala, doing her post-graduation.  Uncle- Aunty were setting up their business in Indore. So when I had looked ahead in the crowd full of unfamiliar claps, I could just imagine the silver lining of my parents and of course him. My parents were ghosts of memories and Shravan's alter figure was an impression of my mind, the only thing I could remember about him was his smile and his adoration for me.

Shravan's heart skipped a beat. She did imgaine him on the day of her comission. He wanted to tell her that he too, saw her clapping and saluting him on his. Sumo style!

A blink.
A flutter.
A breath.

And there I was all alone, once again. It never mattered if I was holding a drill, an OPD, or was just sitting in the silence of my room- I was hollow and thoughtless.

Shravn froze in his seat. It wasn't the only diary entry in this book, which made him feel dead and alive at the same time.

The only changed truth was that Shravan is now a Captain too. He emerged as the topper in his NDA batch, and now his praise sits on everybody's lips in the Cantt.

A mild smile played on his lips.

I pondered if he too missed my father on the day of his commission.
If he too felt my void in the crowd?

'Yes' Shravan muttered, his voice to meek for himself to listen. He felt his throat giving away, cursing their fate, for such cruelty. 'Damn!' he fisted and punched the mahgony table.

Suddenly I could see him walking across the manicured expanse of his garden. He walked in a lazy rhythm, different from what he always did. There was a breeze of the past in his demeanor. As he looked on the other side, his eyes met mine. 

'What was I thinking?' Shravan pressed his brain.

It felt like peeking into the past, the last time we had hugged each other in happiness. or maybe- he didn't know!

Would you have hugged me tighter if you knew it was the last time we were meeting?

 Shravan was now crying. It didn't take much for him to tear down after that sentence. When had they last met? Their memories were so many in number, they played like a film, crystal and clear in his brain. When had they last met? He wanted to shut the diary and forget about it. It was painful and heavy. But it made him lucky, to read it before anything disasterous could have taken place.

A question, so heavy for our fragile eye contact, broke it apart.

Suddenly, I could feel a kind of lethargic anxiety taking over my senses. So when I again looked up, I found him walking away on the other side.

Still, it felt he was coming closer.
Funny isn't it?

'Funny, Very Funny!' Shravan wiped his eyes and a ghostly smile played on his lips.