Mind

KONG'S ARTHIT

The Suthilucks' had a tough time keeping pace with the time that ticked second by second.  They were all very busy people who had lot of projects and assignments deadlines to be met with.  It did not matter much to them whether their son was battling for  life or death.  They had accepted the fact that he was never a part of their life or family, but a burden, an enormous pain in the neck.  Just for the sake of society, media  and police, they were there physically, not mentally.  

The surgery failed, Kongpob was plastered till neck, hand and legs.  He could stir or move about.  He had been wrapped like a corpse.   His head was heavily bandaged.  It was declared that it would take months and months for him to heal his fractures or might not be able to walk all through out his life.  But the major case of worry and concern was his brain, which had suffered acute blood loss and  suffered severe internal and external bleeding, which had resulted him going to  coma indefinitely.

He was taken out from the operation theatre and shifted to ICU.   He was monitored by many expensive and large machines.  He was like a dead body with no movement or sense.  But somewhere  a faint ticking of the heart beat was heard, apart from the monitor beeping, a beat which one can miss if not heard attentively.  A beat of heart, invoked by mind- by Kong's mind, asserting his existence for his Arthit.  

Staying outside the classroom on that rainy day, where for the first time in his life, he felt an under current of strain  passing down his spine, veins and heart.   He stood glued to his spot, where he had the glimpse of his Sun.  The wet body, the messy  fringes on his forehead, the  butts when he ran and his face brimmed with fun, energy and life.   Kong's Arthit was tall, with toned abs, clear skin and eyes that spoke of longevity of  prosperity.   The rain brought about the changes in the life of Kong.  He kept staring at his Arthit, oblivious of his surroundings as if in trance.  He was star struck.   He had no idea how long he kept his gaze and stare on his Arthit.  

Arthit was long gone after the PT hour.  And yet Kong was still glued to that position, unaware of his self and world.   He did not recollect as to how he came back inside the class, how he attended  the other classes and how  was he in his room , clutching the pillow and thinking only about him.  Was  it love or passion, was it lust or obsession, was it his only link to that earthly world or death, he could not decipher.   He was in haze.

I (KONG'S MIND) had shot those electric current to his nerves, which shook him up inwardly.  He was confused, terrified and above all awed by the whole change  of the situation.    I started giving him his chance to live in this world.   He had never tasted his mother's bosom or never shouldered by his father, but then I was slowly sending him signal to fix his gaze on  Arthit's nipples, a storehouse of  Kong's energy drink of thirst, longing, loneliness, companionship and above all love, only LOVE OF ARTHIT FOR HIM, AND ONLY HIM ALONE.

Kong dreamt of sucking on those nipples, sucking to his heart's content, sucking on life, sucking on purpose, sucking on happiness and sucking for being cared by someone in his life.  It was a thought, only thought, but I would fulfill slowly, no matter how years would be passed, Arthit would be his and his alone.

**********

How was this?