The Last One

I was the last one...

So many times... I was the last one..

I was born on 31st December midnight as i may be one among the last baby of that year. But i never felt bad on that, as i am still considered to be a Newyear Gift to my family.

I was the last student who used to come to my class. So, my teacher always punish me by saying "Put all the lights and fans off after the final bell." Firstly i found that as a burden, but gradually by that way, i turned to someone more than a class leader.

I was very vigilant that i could omit so many of errors in my assignments. Do you know how? Its the same Simple reason... I was the last one who submit the works. 

I am the last one who leave the dining table. My friends used to call me a foody, and they used to make fun out of my verocious eating habit. But i was ok that i never allowed my table to waste any food.

I think we are made for each other. I hope that i am the last Boyfriend of my Last girlfriend. And so .. The only point i wish to say.... is the word "Last".

Yes .. last is a hope.. last is a wisdom..

Last is not out, its in.. Last is beautiful.

Its not always being the first is great. 

Its the last too ....

When the darkness is darkest.

when the storm is strong..

when the tides are tall..

When the Hopes are nil.

Its not about the first one who come and left that matters..

Its all about the last one who still standing...

Happy Lie.

Since i joined in this hospital as a Medical officer, i really missed my evening tea. Those sips were a part of my life, my energizer and my best listener. Each time i touch my lips on that tumbler, i used to murmur my thoughts and imprint my feeling on it. Sometimes my words may have tobaco stains.. sometimes not....

It was a usual day but an unusual moment when i was called by my senior doctor for an evening tea. I went along with him passively without any hesitations. He lighted a ciggarates and pointed me one but i was polite enough to say No that i still regret. 

He was a great man. He talked about his college life, his adventures, his life changing moments with rarest of the rare diseases, and few of his advices that i dont even remember. Inbetween i was asked about few opinions on hospital stuffs.  But i answered as if everything goes well and good. Meanwhile, a young man interrupted into our talk by asking .."Sir... You remember me? You treated my daughter few years back.." 

My sir went puzzled and tried few gestures of memory recollections and asked her name..

The man said " Akhila ..sir..  Five years back she had a Chest pain.. i brought her to you."  My sir smiled away and asked about his children and family.. There we had a brief conversation with that man as we both finished the tea.....

When we were walking back, sir told me, that man's story. I felt light to know His daughter is no more and he is just insane after her demise... 

I felt so bad and, watching me, my sir said..." We may face such situations.. We are always destined to tell bad stories to the people right..?, so,,,, sometimes its good to finish the story with a "Happy lie" instead of ending it with a sad truth... Sometimes we have only one option to choose instead of multiple choices that dont have answers...."

THE THIRD PLACE.

I believe that there will be a place for everyone of us, where we all will be on high. I don't mean somewhere we can get addictives.. Its more than that. It can be your friends house, public library, beach, theatre, pubs or even your own bedroom....The place where we all will never be taken for granted. Where we seek what's hidden inside us. Where we can truly find what's happiness..

Comparatively, its more easy for a boy to find his place as they enjoy more freedom. Some girls will find theirs, walking the paths less travelled by others. Some people can change any place to something they wish. They can find beauty in anywhere. And others will adjust and Pretend to be living within theirs. Whatever the scenario is ... We need that.. We have to find it. We just need a place.. a third place...

Am not talking about a place were you can find success and thus happiness as you might have bored off believing that success is the key to happiness. But that's wrong.. totally wrong.. Infact, happiness is the key to success.. But it doesn't matter whether you succeed or not.. You just find this place. This third place..

And when you start thinking about this,, deep to yourself, you may figure it out, the ultimate truth.. The truth that the hardest person to spend time with is yourself..

HIDE AND SEEK

''''On the island of Chios, Orion wooed Merope, daughter of the great  King named Oenopion, apparently without much success, for one night while fortified with wine he tried to ravish her. In punishment, Oenopion put out Orion’s eyes and banished him from the island. Orion headed north to the island of Lemnos where Hephaestus had his forge. Hephaestus took pity on the blind Orion and offered one of his assistants, Cedalion, to act SERVE as his eyes. Hoisting the youth on his shoulders, Orion headed east towards the sunrise, which an oracle had told him would restore his sight. As the Sun’s healing rays fell on his sightless eyes at dawn, Orion’s vision was miraculously relieved, But to stop orion from teasing the same girl, the king Oenopion put him on to the sky.'''-- """That's it dear , you are seeing now."""" Looking at that mysterious constellation in the sky, he completed his story with a gasp

Curiously  listening to the story, the baby girl leaned towards his bare chest and doubted -" so will this ORION tease me when i became an astronaut ???"""" . He said No and added-"  if he come through your way, you just shoot him down, ok.. "okaay- the baby girl became happy.. 

"Dad... was my mom a tennis player?? " the baby asked. He slid his head towards the photo shelf and reminisced the days when he played tennis with his wife. " yes, your mother was a wonderful tennis player, you can also have  a try". He advised her setting an example. 

"Dad,,, was my mother a horse rider???, the girl again proudly asked to know that her mother was good in all such. Childish curiosity elevated and set her mind cheerfully to remember her mother. She was not sad, may be she doesn't know how and why people got sad. Sadness at first takes the senses to train our emotions for acting horribly with few drips of water from eyes and some meaningless noises....

She answered Yes to herself without waiting for her fathers reply. "Dad, i know she was good in tennis, horse riding,  and was a good dancer too.. So tell me, what was her  favorite game???

The curtains of their bedroom window was bathing in the soft blending moonlight as he threw his eyes in an inclined trajectory. Amusing...He saw a star twinkling at him. When he was about to point that star to his daughter as he pondered its as his wife- her baby's unseen mother. But the star dimmed.. 

The baby once again asked " hey dad, tell me, what was my mothers favorite game???? 

Looking at the sky once again, he said, ""HIDE AND SEEK... That was your mothers favorite game...."""  

ANGEL

Just like a mechanical doll, i backpacked my handbag and paced to my bus-stop after hearing the bang of my college bell. Stepping few more feet ahead, i dipped my chin down as  i tried to stare away from that regular guy who simply looks at me every day. He never teased me for all this while, but his gaze itself is a horrible disturbance for me. Drifting away from his piercing look, i moved ahead like a Hollywood-star walks on Red carpet. It took nearly ten minutes for me to reach my bus-stop and i jumped into the bus. For gods sake, i got a window-seat as i  found a relief from the pain i used to feel amidst my shoulder blades.However, It was a happy evening as the sinking sun made the never-ending horizon more and more reddish.

When my bus took a sudden break to load the passengers, my eyes got stuck to a cute girl who just stepped-in with her mom. As my lap found vacant for that girl, her mother told me to take care of her child. I felt very very happy as usual as i am too fond of playing with children. She appears less than four years of age and i prefer to call her as an ANGEL for the rest of this story. She attired with a silvery white gown and wear a white, translucent scarf around her head. Black-lined eyelashes of her, gave me a marvelous contrast with her facial complexions. Everything about her made me happy except two things,,, first thing that she never smiled.....and the second thing that she never even yelled a word to me...

I tried to impress her with so many of my childish gestures that i usually use when i rejoice with children. But none of them worked on her. As the each and every attempt of mine was failing, passengers who were sitting aside of me, grinned and showed their devils glee. It was a great sarcasm for them though it was all my sinking ships in the sea of my ANGELS mind.

Slipping away from all those sarcastic laughs, i asked my angels name.. But she made me disappointing enough to put a spark to the next cracker of laughter in the bus.I asked her name one more time in a politely childish way. I asked again,,, three times ... four times..... It was good enough for thousand times... But she plunged me again into chaos that i reached down-to-earth to decide that i wont entertain any children ever in my life.I tried a chocolate. she took it and again sat simply,giving me a slight sense of gratitude and happiness.

As i am about to reach my home, i set myself ready to step down from the bus after giving my ANGEL back to her mother. When i stood for a while to drop myself down from the bus, i asked her name once again to her mother. She conveyed something to my ANGEL as my angel happily showed her fluttering hands on me in response... ohhhhh my god.....ANGEL....

I slumped down from the bus and  just stood for a while as the bus passed... My angel is still smile-fully  fluttering at me... But she don't talk to me, and she don't hear me.... Her mother waved her hands and conveyed few gestures to pole her vote of thanks...And she added one more gesture which made my cheeks wet..   Actually, my ANGEL could never talk to anybody... and she could never hear anybody....


  

THE GIRL WHO CRIED..

 I was knowing that was divine. An auspicious mix between the exudates of her mom and dad. The venue is a cavity about ten centimeter. Now i could see some threads , where untwining, segregating  independently and rejoined at last, i think they used to call them as chromosomes. Anyway , some beautiful threads among them which are ready to define her gender are visible like similar ones. How sweat you honey,,, ...... You will be the most beautiful girl on earth. i prayed out unknowingly with a gasp.                        

One of my challenging task on her is completed by myself with at most care. May be i being called as her father and mother but actually and absolutely not. May be they will guide her to me by pointing upon a church, temple or a mosque till she knows i am , the origin and annihilation built with all the wealth of infinite.                        

I went close to her and whispered as previous." Hey sweety, am sending you to the earth. - the actual heaven where i made people who can make you smile. Some of them will be more close to you as your family. Someone will complement you on time  and you will get paired up. Then i will again send others to love you and to look after you in your old age after your absolute union with that someone". After listening to my whisper, she took her ears off from me and went for getting nourishment from her mother.                        

WHAT.....???? Whats happening??? I listened carefully by getting into her soul. Now i can hear some  doctors voice from outside.  OHHHHH... Jerk off... Something is coming to her, clipped on her and i suddenly withdrew myself from her body after  for seeing longer.                        

 Surgical equipments directed by well- educated doctors are playing their role systematically and mechanically. How damn??? They are striking her, squeezing her and about to kill her. She cried , cried, and cried,and asked " Hi, mom; why are you simply obeying to kill me?  s there anything wrong with me?? I ma also beautiful like you,  please mom.... Give me a chance to love you. Don't you wanna know how much i have waited to sleep on your  side??? How dare you can eject out your breast milk simply without my affectionate lips??? please mom,, please,, allow me to live....                        

 "Hi dad... Three months i have waited to breath the same air as yours.. The first lesson of music i want to learn is your rhythmical heart beat by lying beside , keeping ears close to your warmed bare chest.. Don't you have the tender affection to kiss me??? Don't you wanna feel my love??? Please dad; don't kill me....... "                        

 "Hey... you;my family. i know ,you are so tired by searching one good name for me.. Don't you wanna play with me.. ??? I can't imagine the forthcoming festival-spots without you. Haven't you brought a toy-shop for me??  please... please.... Help me out safely..... "                        

: "Hi, the holy mother, earth.. How stupid you are??? Will you hate to have my footprints on you???                        

 Hmmmmmm..... aaahhhhhh...... There is dark now... having no reason.....                        

 I can see the spark ; which changed as  a flame. and washes way the darkness. she appeared with her childish smile by hiding her tears and sorrows. the only thing i can tell her that is SORRY. Then what else i can??? How should i face her??? What should i tell her??                        

NOTHING....                        

I just hold her hands with my flooded eyes, and embraced  her with all the affectionate feelings in this world and said " Sorry dear; you are mine. and i do promise that i will not give you to anyone; Some things are better left forgotten right????

THERE WAS NO ONE TO TELL HIM THAT HE CANT..

 People say writing is a lonely business.. but I think they all lie... writing is actually more than a canvas of a huge crowd. So when I touched my keypad, I asked myself.."why the hell I write..... """
But I got to know the fact that we all write because we feel something..

It doesn't matter how literate you are , how educated you are...if we can obey our feelings , we all can become writers.. I think so...and I feel it..

When I threw my sight through my window, I could see two boys , who were playing upon the ice floor.. its winter here, the time to play through-ball with ice cakes..
But thy were actually doing something else... I watched them closely, and enjoyed off being nostalgic at myself..

Abruptly, one boy disappeared...😳😳

What happened??🤔 I searched and zoomed my eyes into no wheree  except the periphery... but I couldn't see the boy, but only a crying friend of him captured my stare.. He cries for help, but didn't get anyone.. I should have gone thr to search his friend, but my paralytic limb offered a kind of resistance to my willls and wishes as I tried to twist mywheel chairr...😝😝

 Then, I saw an admirable incident.. I was heavily surprised to see the masculinity of that typing boy to break a thick branch of a pine tree and patted in the ice floor.. as the ice floor broke and parted away, I happily see the other boys hand from inside... it was quit dramatic and thrilling . But I was actually thinking " how can a boy of such a younger age could break that branch.. even the adults used to axe it for sizing...so how can he?? Is he magical??? A super human ???? 😇😇😇

I felt totally puzzled..but later I came to know the fact...

The boy was really younger than I thought.  He was not much masculine.. he dont have any magical powers.... but the matter of fact is THERE WAS NO ONE THERE TO TELL HIM THAT HE CANT BREAK THE BRANCH....😊😊😊