Bonus Chapter

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Gran's P.O.V.

««This a surprise bonus chapter for all the ones who liked BTG. Hope you like this last one. You know why I keep coming back to this story?
Because its incredibly close to my heart....»»
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'But the bravest man amongst us is afraid.
Of himself.'
~Oscar Wilde
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Venue: town hospital- specialising in oncology
Time: five years later the plane crash
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Who would ever know that this old self of mine would live this long,huh? I, at the very first place, woke up every morning with the wonder of waking up. Each night, I bid my respects and goodbyes to everyone. Hoping and hoping that next morning I won't wake up. My sleep would turn eternal. At last! But, calling this a 'living' is actually not theoretically correct. I died five years ago. Not by that crash. Nor by cancer. I died of hopelessness. Of depravity. Of anger.

Now, today, that I lay on this stark white bed typical of a hospital, I think of my death. Not the one waiting for me out there. But the living horror I walked through these past years. The horror of letting someone else die. A loved one. Only when you were supposed to die. It was all a mistake. It was a careless mistake. On my part. On death's part.

I knew life can play its tricks. It can rob you off your favorites. But, never in my wildest dreams could I have thought that it would play such a ruthless game. Maybe I am misconceptioned. Maybe we humans are too blinded by reality. Tell me, how many of us think that a young girl of fifteen could've died so tragically, when there was a good for nothing old Gran waiting for her doom? Counting on days. That's all I was doing. And I was so not correct. I let go, like most humans, of what I easily got. I got to live a long,long life but, I wasn't thankful. I've learned that in life,be thankful of whatever little you get. Whatever it might be.

These years, I haven't had anyone come and talk to me for hours. I have forgotten the taste of giving someone solace. I've forgotten how it felt to rub off someone's tears. Even though we shifted to another part of this huge world, it didn't help. Because, memories are not fixated to a particular place. Maybe they wake up strong at some places and sometimes, but memories are what you carry in flesh and blood with you. Your work, your busy schedule might push the memories down inside you, but when at night you go to sleep, in the comfort of your blanket and when you have only yourself, your feelings, your memories they resurface. To provide you company.

Some might make you grin foolishly on your pillow. Some might make your eyes glisten with moisture. Some might make you sit up and think all night. Memories are the worst enemies of your sleep. They creep up to you, and once you are flooded with them, there's no turning back.

Almost every night, I did the same. Then one day, doctor suggested sleeping pills. They helped maybe. Once I took those pills, I got pulled into a long night of peaceful sleep. But, sleep was one of the last things I wanted. Somehow, I was addicted to all the flashbacks and all the tears and the smiles. It was like, at that moment, in the deep dark hours of night, I got back Ann. By remembering her.

But, that's all hopeless. I know that there's no way she can come back to me. But, I might go up to her. Where, I don't know. Death and it's aftermaths is a mystery known to all. When one's young, this mystery haunts them. But, when there's someone as old and withered like dried leaves like me, this mystery surprises us. And, once we are tired of life and want to explore nothing new, we want to explore death. Human tendency.

But, last five years told me something new. Death is the biggest mystery to us mere mortals, rights? Inevitable, it lies right in front of us. But, when thought again well and deep, I gather death isn't the biggest mystery after all. It's life.

And now, as I lay counting the last minutes of my life, I felt, maybe my life wasn't that morose. I agree I had my struggles but, isn't it part of life? I hit cancer, I lost the one I loved the most. They were my form, rather my share of struggle. I got it in the shape of loss. Some got it in the form of hunger. Some for isolation. But, at the end of the day, everyone does face struggles. Life! Told you it's a huge mystery.

I looked to my side. White cylindrical tubes transported me oxygen. A huge clamp rested over my mouth and nose to help me respire. What a foolish thing to do! Why offer oxygen to me? A dying man? Rather, use your worthy resources for someone in genuine need. For someone who wants to live. No, I'm not worthy of such a thing.

It took all the strength in my week bones to come to a near sitting position. The cannula over my mouth threatened to fall apart. The exhaustion of sitting up could have very well killed me. But, as you might have gathered by now, I'm strong. Both physically and mentally.

So I sat up and looked over at the mess of wires and tubes clung to me. I searched for the oxygen supplier. If only I could cut it away from me......

But, I couldn't tell the tubes apart. I had no idea which one supplied me air. So, I had a better idea.

I lay back down again. And looked up at the ceiling. Maybe what I'm doing is not right. My family wouldn't be able to bear such a loss. Not when they'll know I did on purpose. But, man's selfish. I'm selfish.

All I seeked for was a taste of peace.
I was tired. I needed rest.
My requirements are not an uncomfortable cannula on my mouth.
My requirements definitely don't consist of a cruel life full of misery.
My requirements......let them be fulfilled by the unknown.

I looked all around one last time and then, very slowly and with great care, I pulled the oxygen mask over from my mouth.

Soon, I started gasping for air. I gaped and toiled in the bed.

They....They would soon find me,lying on the bed lifeless. With the oxygen mask in my palms. The nurse would come soon for the regular visiting time. She....she would shriek and call for the doctor. The doctor would say I'm gone. He would call for my family. They would cry...........

But me?
I'm set free now.
I've been given my wings.
To fly.

And....I reached out for freedom.
Eternal freedom.
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««huh....so that's all about BTG.
Do comment on how your journey was with my first story.
~Manjima»»

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