A slit. And I’d break free. I’d float into a world where there’d be no suffering. A world, free from misery, guilt and treachery. A world, where I can be myself, and live for myself. A world, from which I need never return. A world which would be mine.
I took the knife into my hands. I positioned it over my left wrist. The knife was shining- smooth and sharp. Just the way it should be. The setting sun shone its blood red rays over the knife. And the knife- looked jubilant.
I could see myself in that knife. No. It wasn’t me. My eyes were never bloodshot. This was someone alien. No. And I put the knife down. I turned around. I could now face the mirror. I could see a stranger.
A stranger- who’d lost his smile. A stranger- who cried like a child; who hated himself for what he’d become. A stranger- who was in me; whom I’d never invited in me.
Her eyes. It grew large every time I surprised her. Oh! She laughed like a baby! A laughter- that had no sleight, no grudge. It seemed, as though she grew younger, each day.
And one day, when she held my hands, I looked into her eyes. There was no one but she and I. No world, no universe. But she and
But when she started to speak; the stranger crept in. For I was incapable of hearing what she said. And she would never love this stranger if she’d never loved me. No. It was this stranger, whom she’ll never love. Not me. She’d love me. She has to love me. But the stranger wouldn’t leave me. So, I’d kill him. I returned back to the knife.
The knife was back- over my left wrist. I heard a cry. Somewhere, on the road. It made me pause, for a moment. It delayed my journey.
I saw a baby. Round the corner- left out to rot. The stranger, lifted the baby off the trash. The baby stopped crying. His eyes grew large. He looked surprised; amazed at his own luck! The stranger was ebbing away. It was now my eyes which looked into the baby’s. The baby smiled. A smile, so pristine; sans sleight, sans grudge. His nimble fingers, gripped my shirt. And- my smile, returned…