The Day Before 'I' Die 6 Gunfires Awaited

I used to fill the pillow with the salt-beads and await gunfires in the room. My kid used to come and go. The people I admired the most, couldn't find me, as my phone was crushed. I didn't remember their numbers and all I had now was me alone. Somehow, breathing and awaiting gunfire. During my last week inside the hospital-cubicle, I started to a.n.a.lyze my life.

I realized that from being a baby with some capabilities to becoming a person who has begun to identify them, I have traveled a long, silent, and a tragic street. My mother, who I feel could've understood me, walked away to make me scribble my journey in my own way, as soon as I started to babble. My aunt, who was an angel but without a sword or s.h.i.+ning armor, never tried to protect me. The lady, who was a kid, was an angel, whom I never was able to find again. Angel's mother, who was a normal human being, was just a being, who vanished into thin air to again rea.s.sure me, I am the one to create my life's story. The only lady, who was till the end with me, whom I can just hope to meet once again now, was like the reincarnation of my mother; yet again, there but never reinforced her authority on me--neither as a n.o.ble with a heart of compa.s.sion nor as a mother.

All the men in my life, whom I always to wished to thank from the depths of my heart, just sculpted in front of me a delicate yet deeply mirror of illusion. It took me an extra one month to work out on these things. That one month, I again picked up the job of giving home tuitions. At nights, I continued to scribble down my diary for my baby. I don't know. Somehow, I still had this feeling that my baby's still awake and breathing somewhere around me.
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I started to write more and more. One day, I decided to revisit that moment when I first thought to end this life. I scribbled it down--

"I'm sitting here on platform number 2 which remains mostly empty at this time of the day. I'm at the abyss of the platform. As I sit here planning to jump deep and free, a second before it struck me that before I end this life, I should firstly pen-down everything related to it for the policemen, society, media, and the world to read..."

I started to gather all my stuff. I searched in my head for the unanswered questions.

Why my husband wanted me to learn all that intellectual things when he just wanted to keep me inside the house? Why I cannot hear those gunfires now? Why did my uncle told me to wear the white robe but not go bald when I became a widower? Why did he use to allow me to sit in his cla.s.sroom and not any other girl? Why he was standing with a slipper in his hand that day? Why did my aunt ask me to cover my face?

Gradually I started finding answers to all these questions.

The biggest trickery played on me was by my husband. He needed a puppet, but the one who is an intellectual. More like the character of Lucky from Waiting from G.o.dot. He told me once that he would take me along with him that during the business parties and trips. He just needed to make a good impression on his bosses and earn in dollars.

My uncle was just a l.u.s.tful dog as now I can clearly see why he always made me clean the house in front of him. That day when my aunt became an ostrich, he must have been trying to lion upon her loins. My aunt, being a believer of beauty and had seen all kinds of blooms of the garden we live in, must have realized both the pros and cons of my character. So did she advised me to hide my flesh.

By the end of March, I found my baby. I was sleeping when I found her beside me, in the morning. She was calm, composed, and completely healthy. I again saw that angel's mother. She again vanished into thin air as I smiled.

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