A Heartbeat-Revived again

The Haunting Discovery

“Shan why did you felt like becoming a doctor?” My Physiology professor Dr.Neel Gupta asked me reading my name from the shining badge, emblazed on my white apron. He was a grim and short tempered man in his          late forties. He grunted and bickered a lot and gave most of his students a hard time, to like him or impress him by any means. It was his first class. I was sitting in the first row, so I got caught.

"Sir like most other students in this classroom, I was not sure about my future. But when I witnessed, the pathetic living and health conditions in our villages' especially in the remote areas of our state; I was jerked from inside. I had decided against pursuing a private job. I felt there was a dire need of doctors in our country. I realized the meaning of being a doctor on that trip to my native village 'Bangoli'. Besides, a small reason was my interest in biology."

Dr. Neel gaped at me, open-mouthed as if startled him for a while. Then he started clapping and my whole batch joined him.

I had done a wonderful job .I had lied perfectly .With full concern and expression. I wasn't sure about his question, but some things always crossed my mind. I wanted my future to be secure. This profession had money, it had glamour and could get you fame. Yes, it required a lot of nocturnal sweating, but better 'Be early than repent later'. I didn't want a jobless, fruitless degree in the name of higher education.

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        I was pondering over all this as I walked alone, in the backyard of our hostel, enjoying the cool salubrious weather. The backyard was a narrow confined area, fenced with high thick brick walls forming the college boundary. I walked with small short steps. Black clouds formed overhead and the whiffs were getting stronger, predicting a storm was not far. I praised and patted myself for the commendable speech I had given in the morning. I was happy. Everyone around me was happy. Joy floated in the air .So much that I had never experienced before.

             Suddenly, it poured down and I was soaked in the rain. I took shelter in a square shaped corner whose entrance was made by two adjacent walls. As my gaze fell down, I noticed some scribbling in yellow chalk powder, on the drab, moss covered wall at its base. I removed the weeds and shrubs concealing it below me, to be dumbstruck by what I read:

In this world of blossom and spring,

Full of cheer and light,

Gloom is where I sit,

Darkness is where I reside.

To meet the faith with hopeless endings,

Brought down by this burden of life.

Born on twelfth October,

Died on July nine.

There was also a caricature of a man, his wife and their two children; a boy and a girl. I read it. Again and then again. Till I was completely exhausted. I thought fiercely with every chunk of knowledge, curiosity and energy that had been left in me:

                 Who could write it?

                 Why would anyone write it?