Another experiment.

Another experiment……..

Nothing was left to live for. My husband of 25 years had just left me for a woman old enough to be his daughter. My daughter was dating a man old enough to be her father. I had no friends, and no hopes of making any. My family had always been everything to me. Now, they had vanished from my life. While sitting and reading the newspaper, it hit me- who would I pamper? Who would I cook for, scold, and chide? Whose clothes would I fold, and whose daily habits would I criticise?
As days, weeks, months went by, I began to lose track of time. I felt like I was just living one very, very long, unbearable day. How to end this?Jump off the terrace? No, too messy. Take a rassi and hang myself from the fan? Na na…what if it couldn’t take my weight? Maybe I should drink phenyl. But Mrs. Batra came back from the ICU, nothing more happened!
Bas, then and there I decided to go to Mohan Chemist and buy some sleeping pills. It would be quick, painless, and effective. Atleast, that’s what they showed in all those English movies. I put on my rubber chappals and went down. At the chemist’s, Mr. Patnaik greeted me as usual.
‘Hello Mrs. Kotwal, kaise ho? How is Baby? Mr. Kotwal is out on business again?’
That did it. Whatever doubts I had had just flown out the window. My ‘Baby’ was at this very moment with that perverted old man, and ‘Mr. Kotwal’s’ ‘business’ was never going to be any of my business anymore, and…it was time.
So, I told Mr. Patnaik that I was having trouble sleeping, and I was scared to go to the doctor, so could he give me some medicine? Luckily, he obliged, and I walked home clutching that little brown bottle as if it contained everything that mattered. In a way, I bitterly reflected, it did.
So I got home and put on some soft music- Rafisaab, and sat on my sofa, looking at the bottle. How long would it take, I wondered? To finally leave all this behind, and go to, hopefully, a happier place…? Chalo Chalo, if I didn’t stop thinking, I would never get down to it. My husband always used to tease me about the same thing. My husband…devoted my life to that man…gave up my career…
Thinking about all this made me more sad, and that bloody Rafi wasn’t helping either. So I went and lay down on the bed. No point doing it in the living room, should be comfortable in your last moments, no?
I took one last look at the photo fame I had had beside my bed since marriage. One photo was of me and the bastard(that is what I was fondly calling my husband nowadays), and the other of my sweet baby Devika, the one she had given me when she finished her graduation from some big college in America whose name I couldn’t pronounce.
With my ‘last rites’ complete, I unscrewed the cap of the bottle and sat on the edge of the bed with a big glass of water. Then,I just gulped all the pills down, fatafat! As I lay back, I don’t know what I was expecting…maybe that suddenly I’ll die, like in some bad Hindi movies, or just slip into it slowly slowly. Now I had to wait and watch…
Slowly, unexpectedly, like a wave it came, just washing over me. As if someone came and put a blanket on me…it felt so nice…so peaceful…I could hear a rhythmic beat somewhere…like a drum…welcoming me..come Nalini…it will all be alright…the drum beating…in the distance…sleep.


~ by cranialrumblings on February 1, 2009.

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