Adrian

I kept calling him, but he did not answer. Adrian was lying face down on the street, with his body still and seemingly lifeless, and a puddle of blood gradually developing near his head. I had not been able to comprehend the volatile changes that had taken place in my life within the last five minutes. I had reached home, after a long, hard day at work, and hardly had I stepped inside our house, when I saw him, standing on the ledge of the balcony. His hands seemed somewhat nervous and fidgety, and a minute later, my mind realised what was about to happen. My heart was racing faster than a cheetah chasing his prey, as I tried to take a step forward. I was hoping he wouldn't notice me, and through some miracle, I would be able to pull him back from that ledge that tantalised certain death. My next step however, was one that I'd always regret, as the loose floorboard let out a creak, and this made him turn around. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was devoid of any emotion. Our eyes met for a split second, and I whispered his name out to the universe. "Adrian?" He smiled, and flung himself out, leaving behind all his pain and sorrow in this cruel world.

It's said that the strongest tool man possesses, is his wild animal instinct. In a tense, gut-wrenching situation, all rational ideas seem to vanish, and all that we have, is a raging fire in our heads that tell us what to do. My mind had stopped working, but I inherently knew where I was going. I dashed down through the staircase and ran through the street, with a reckless abandon of rationale. An amalgam of sadness, anger and desperation at the same time tore through my heart as I ran, ran to rescue my friend's life, to snatch it back from the cruel supernatural powers that had tried to take him away from me. I wrestled my way through the murmuring huddle of bystanders looking at the scene, and hurriedly began shaking his body, with a sense of desperation that knew no limits. His eyes showed no signs of life anymore, but I could feel warm, erratic breaths from his nostrils on my sweaty palm. A minute sense of joy crept through my heart, but I brushed it aside ruthlessly. This was a time of immediate action. I rushed him to the hospital, owing to someone's goodwill and presence of mind to call an ambulance immediately. After an intense four hour long operation, and what seemed like an endless era of complete darkness for me, I was informed that Adrian would live, and that it was a blessed miracle that he had survived.

A million questions raced through my mind, while I looked at him, steadfast and firm, back at home. He had been discharged, and I had brought him home. Both of us hadn't uttered a single syllable throughout the journey, one out of anger and frustration, and the other one, now healing, out of guilt and shame. His eyes couldn't meet mine, as he kept diverting his attention everywhere, besides my penetrating stern stare. I finally lost my patience, and like a police-criminal questioning, I banged my hand hard against the table, and asked him a simple question. "Why?" I had expected him to shout, or revolt against me, demonstrate an outburst of some kind, but what he did next shocked me even more. He looked at me, and began crying.

All my anger dissipated through the air as I rushed to wipe those tears off his eyes, the eyes of my closest friend, someone who had chosen to end his life and all his being a couple of days back. He looked at me, and sobbingly broke his silence. I had known he had left his corporate job to follow his lifelong dream of having his own entrepreneurial start-up. It had been a year since he had returned the official BMW sedan to his office with a proud victorious smile, and since then he had never looked back. He had received his funding for his idea from a corporate alliance, and his joy had known no bounds. I still remember how hard we had partied that night, with all the drinks on him, and his seemingly bright future. And yet somehow, this budding, confident entrepreneur sat in front of me today a broken man, emotionally and physically. I held his hand tight, a comforting barricade to the overflowing emotions of that moment, and gently asked him what was going on. He then went on to tell me that this company that had offered the funds for his business idea, which was near completion now, had suddenly decided to withdraw of its funds immediately. Adrian had his entire fortune of savings, and his think tank at risk, and he just couldn't afford to let that happen. He took the matter in his own hands, and pleaded and begged before them to reconsider their decision, but to no avail. He had returned home that day empty handed and shattered. All his money was now in jeopardy. To make matters worse, the bank that had loaned him some money for additional expenses, was stirring and getting impatient by the minute for their returns. Adrian had had this enormous weight on his shoulders for over four months, and not knowing what to do next, he had decided to make that fateful jump.

All throughout this conversation, his voice was muffled by the continuous sobs, but I could feel his pain as clear as a knell. I hugged him as hard as I could, and exasperatedly asked why hadn't he even considered sharing this with me before. He sighed deeply, and replied saying that he knew all the trouble I was going through myself, with all my struggles to write a new book and yet being unsuccessful. My last book had barely sold a few hundred copies, and while the entire world harps on and on about content and creativity, the sad reality is and always will be, it's the sales that count. In that moment, I realised how lucky I was, not just to have a companion like him, but for somehow having been able to save him that day. This sentiment and gratitude had practicality to it too, as I repaid a major part of his loan the very next day.

This was just the beginning of the crusade though. We both realised that a lot was at stake, and began work in earnest. I had to do most of the physical work, with Adrian still wrapped in a cast on his wheelchair for his injuries, but the constant inputs from him were a lot more necessary and important. I had a work place of my own, a small chemical company downtown, as I knew I needed a steady source of income even when my writings weren't being published, but I decided to take some time off, to tend to Adrian and keep an eye on him. I couldn't afford another reckless leap of faith from his side off the balcony. Adrian however, seemed a changed man. His flight in air seemed to have instilled a constant ray of hope and positivity within him, and he now wanted to do better every moment of his precious life.

It was hard work though, writing better plans, hours of intense brainstorming, listing out options for potential funding organisations, drinking gallons of coffee and beer just trying to stay awake and work night after night. Our beards grew longer, our hair unruly, but the work did not stop. We were ready to nurse weeks of hangovers just to reach our goal. Our goals were a tad bit different though. Adrian wanted to come back and conquer the living world, leaving behind some traumatising memories, but all I wanted was to see him smiling and eager. Nevertheless, it instilled an accelerated drive within both of us. After a hard-core month of planning, we decided to approach a few target companies, and miraculously, Adrian's product was really appreciated in the market. Initial rejections failed to demotivate him, and this seemed to be paying off. An idea on the verge of certain death, almost laid into the coffin had been reawakened, and even cherished by many around. Work began on a large scale, and within a year, Adrian received his patent for his product, and a hefty sum of money with it. Such a drastic change of events was something that belonged in a fairy-tale, but it was actually happening. I remember the day he got that first pay check, and he stared at it for a long minute, and jumped onto me, in a joyous celebration. This jump was a long way from the one an Adrian in the past has taken. Both were emotionally fuelled, but with such a stark contrast of emotions, it brought tears to my eyes. That determined look was back in his eyes, and the young Adrian I had always known was finally back before me.

The world seemed to have crafted a new fate for him, a happy one, and an enjoyable one. His journey had been long and hard, and it had a lot many perils to come ahead, but it was his grit and determination that made a broken man completely strong again. I realised that all it took was a jump in the right direction, to lead a man from the depths of hell to the brightness of heaven. The greatest form of happiness was in fact seeing a loved one emerge from the dark and lead his life into light, a light of optimism and joy. And in all this, I got my own little selfish motive and reward. I had now found the perfect character with the perfect journey for my next book. Adrian.