The Exilir And The Poison

Chapter 1: The Life Penalty

Loving you was like going to war; I never came back the same.

~Warsan Shire

His eyes stare absently in the distance, gauging the colors of the fading sun and the clouds marching around the lone orange object like a trail of a large robe. In the world bathed in gold he watches birds that go home, their grey silhouettes sharp against the crimson sun.

His attention is drawn towards people around him, chattering, some laugh, and a smile forms on his own lips too. Some people pass by him, glance at him occasionally, wave at him, congratulating him on finally getting better and leaving for home.

Home.

He wants to ask them what exactly do they mean by home? Is it because they live there or because they have the people who love them?

For most it's probably both. For him, it's neither. He's abandoned the idea of home, a stable life, happiness, and warmth, and now this is what he considers to be his reality. A life without anything normal. It's not much, but it's enough.

Some tears, some smiles, some pain, but somehow, all without hope - it all is enough for him for this lifetime.

"Your parents must be here any time, Ranveer," Dr. Pooja Sharma, in her customary white dress, round glasses, and a smile, tells him. "I've just spoken to them. They're on their way."

Rage bubbles inside him and it's visible on his face. He clutches at his chair tightly, knuckles turn white, eyes focused before him, as he holds himself together futilely, frozen in place. He must be sweating by now because the woman rushes towards him with a worried look on her face.

"Are you alright?"

He's uncertain if he's nodding or not but she backs away. When he finds his voice, he thanks her.

"Tell them I won't be needing them," Ranveer says, struggling to properly breathe.

"You've been here for more than 3 months and haven't met a single soul from your family, Ranveer."

He's silent.

"We're discharging you because we think you're doing better. If this is how you're getting better, I'd much rather you stay."

He smiles. But it's a cold, calculative smile. One that he remembers from a long time ago. "My parents didn't get me here. A friend did."

"You haven't met that friend either, Ranveer."

"I'm sure I'll see him around once I'm out."

It doesn't convince his psychiatrist but she nods for the moment. Ranveer turns around to watch the sunset, another good-bye to the day, a reminder that he has outlived someone more worthy of living than him.

After all this time, he's still breathing.

His head feels light as the night expands its claws over the world, consuming the remains of the light the sun left in her wake. It's easier to see things in the dark, to hide oneself, and for the moment, just be yourself. That's what he does. An old Hindi song is playing on the radio. Ranveer hears it with a smile. It's a Kishore Kumar song. A happy song that talks about the first love, nuances of the feelings that were an integral part of him not more than a year ago. As the song concludes, he sighs with an ache in his heart and a nostalgia, reminiscing the era that's in the past now.

Nostalgia is the best and the worst feeling in the world.

The night slowly fades , and he realises it's time for him to leave. Before his parents arrive, he must go.