Weird and Wonderful

Chapter 17

Present Year

Swasti could not sleep that night. She tried various techniques of bringing sleep but all techniques failed miserably. She could not stop thinking about Saarthak Sharma. When she realized that she would not sleep no matter how hard she tried, she tried to divert her mind by watching TV. But it seemed that all channels had their midnight slots reserved for teleshopping. Then Swasti turned to her favourite novel for refuge but it too had betrayed her at the hour of need. Swasti took her cell phone and dialled her mother’s phone number. But she disconnected the call before her mother could attend the call.

What was she thinking? She had already caused her mother a lot of trouble; at least she should not disturb her sleep at the middle of the night.

Why had Kritika come to her room? She had not bothered about her when Swasti was battling depression. Now when things were finally under control, why had she come to destroy the peace in her life? Why she didn’t care about Swasti’s incomplete love story when she was busy dating Abhishek? She remembered her old friend only when her boyfriend had ditched her?

The anger for Kritika could not dispel the unsettling feeling which was accumulated in Swasti’s heart. Finally Swasti decided to do the thing which she had prevented her heart to do since Kritika left. With trembling hands, she took her laptop and typed Saarthak Sharma’s in the Google search box.

Swasti looked at the Wikipedia page with great concentration but could find nothing significant there. But Saarthak’s interviews were really interesting. They provided more insight into his character than his official website. His answers to the journalists’ questions reminded him of Rachit though she had never met. Saarthak’s face reminded her how Rachit would have looked. But why was Swasti thinking all this? Saarthak was not Rachit and no one could replace Rachit’s place in her heart. But the similarity between Rachit and Saarthak was unsettling for her.

Swasti searched about the drowning incidents on the Internet. Research proved that near-drowning resulted in hypoxia due to which oxygen could not reach the brain cells resulting in partial or complete loss of memory. Had Rachit too lost his memory? Was Saarthak Rachit? Oh! Swasti hadn’t even seen any  picture of Rachit so that she could verify the fact.
No! Swasti was imagining too much! It must be the impact of the daily soaps in which the protagonist came back from dead, taking on a different identity. But TV shows take inspiration from daily life. And Swasti knew that reality is often stranger than fiction. Swasti didn’t know what to believe. Life was playing a strange game with her. Why could not her life be normal like other girls? If Rachit had rejected her as Abhishek rejected Kritika, at least Swasti could move on. But Rachit was dead even before Swasti had fallen for him. It seemed to Swasti as if she had reached the dead end of her life from where she could not return.

When Swasti was at college the next day, her palms began sweating profusely at the middle of the lecture in spite of the chilly winter which was causing everyone to shiver. Her throat suddenly became dry and it appeared to Swasti as if she had lost the ability to stand. Taking support of the wall, she went to the staff room and sat on a chair. It was happening again! She knew that her panic attacks had returned. At first she thought to apply for leave to go to her home at Kanpur but for how long would she keep running from herself? If running away from problems could solve them, then she should be happy now.

But Swasti knew that she was not happy. Whenever she had no work to do, she was haunted by a sadness which encompassed her entire existence. She was nothing more than the lifeless table in front of her. At least the table served some purpose whereas Swasti’s life had no aim. Swasti never felt so ashamed of herself. She felt that she was a burden on everyone including herself. She felt a strong urge to end her life. She could go to the Chemistry lab and end her life by consuming a poisonous chemical. Or she could jump from the fourth floor of the building where she was now sitting. She could easily take her life when and where she wanted. Swasti found an immense joy in this thought. At least she could control her death. Not everyone is brave enough to die. And when life becomes hell, death gives the promise of heaven. Swasti remembered Rachit’s poem about death:

Death is our home
Free from pretence
Free from hopes and expectations.
It does not judge us by our looks or status,
neither by our wits not by our talents;
It simply accepts us not even asking
Who we are or Where we're from.

Living death is like roaming in the tranquil space,
faraway from the false and imitated moonlight
reflected by mirage of the world.
Death is a home
free from all cunning manipulations;
it's so simple -with a flow of its own.
It never leaves us,
never ever forgets us-
like a good old friend-
even in the face of adversity.
Death is beautiful-
it has its own unique charm.

It is so pure-
untouched by any worldly pollutant;
and above all:
It is the place where we can return after
the long tiring journey of practical life,
and sleep peacefully in its cozy bed,saying
"DEATH IS OUR HOME"

Swasti went to the terrace. She judged its height from the ground. There was no boundary on the terrace. She would certainly die after jumping from that height. Yes, there was risk of being crippled for life after breaking her bones. But the misery of her life had given her courage to take that risk.

Swasti went to the edge of the terrace. She did not close her eyes. She wanted to experience death in its purest form. Swasti counted in her mind- One...Two...