My Journal - The Missing Entry

[It may seem vaguely similar to a movie instance and somewhat to a Charles Dickens plot, but believe me I had no idea until I finished it. Apologies.]

Wake up. I open my eyes to greet the world which is the same as it was last night. Maybe it’s worse now. My life so far has been such that I always prepare myself for the latter. So, without an ounce of hope I look in the mirror. The same old face stares back at me. I move towards the bathroom with a smile on my face for no reason whatsoever; which by the way is one of the very few remains of the boy I once used to be. Then, it used to be a means of expressing myself. Now, it’s the only positive thing I can force out of myself.

A frugal breakfast later I am off to college. On my way I spot happy people. Mostly joggers and students. Every one’s happy about one thing or another. I can hear them talking. A man had bought a car yesterday. On the other hand his friend had just returned from a great weekend trip with his girlfriend. This makes me recall my weekend. Not one thing worth even remembering, let alone telling someone about it.

As I enter the gates, I find the campus deserted. I quickly glance at my watch. Late again. I think about it and I actually don’t know why I am late. I’ll make up an excuse.

“Well hello there!” The professor lays bricks on what is going to be a monument of my grand welcome.

I remain silent. Silence. It’s the only gift God could spare for me.

“So?” He continues in my manslaughter.”Let’s all hear about your obviously important reservations which kept you from this class till now.”

“I..er…my alarm didn’t go off today…it…uh..seems to have some problem. I’ll get it fixed.” I don’t have an alarm clock. I don’t need one actually.

There’s murmur in the class. The girls never seemed so interested in what the professor had to say.

“Now that’s a dull one. I’d hoped for a better story. Anyways you do know that today is the last day to submit your term paper, don’t you?”

I look at the class hoping someone would signal he’s joking. Suddenly there’s a wicked smile on his face.

“And by the look of it you haven’t yet started working on it, which I presume is also because your alarm didn’t go off. Isn’t it?” Now the giggle becomes a laugh.

“Sir..” I try to recollect. “You didn’t say anything about the deadline in the class.”

Suddenly he raises his voice. “Of course I didn’t you fool! I e-mailed it along with the other specifics to each and every student, about which I shouted like hell in the class.”

I do remember something about the e-mail thing. Just didn’t know it had any significance whatsoever. Another disadvantage of not having friends in your class.

“And I presume you are aware of the consequences?” He lowers his voice back to normal.

“Very much, sir.” No. I am not. May be I’ll have to repeat the subject in the next semester. May be they’ll kick me out of the college. Or may be they’ll just kill me for good.

The morning incident keeps looming in my head all day. After classes, everyday I wait for the one person that makes life meaningful. I have no idea what she saw in me. But I believe that girls do like losers. There she comes. Beautiful. Lively. Divine. Over the phone she’d said she wanted to talk to me about something. Fingers crossed.

“Hi!”

“Hey!”

“How was your day?” She asks dully. Strange. She doesn’t know anything about it.

“Bad.” I describe it all in one syllable. That’s me. “How was yours?”

“Can’t complain.” And then starts a five minute description. It is good in my dictionary.

“So,” I can’t wait any longer. “You said you wanted to tell me something.”

“Yeah,” I listen with all I’ve got. “About that.”

From here I am sure I can predict what it’s going to be. Anyways.

“I am listening..” without a change in my expression I say. One of the few things I am pretty good at. Pretending.

“You know Hades? He’s in my class..”

“Yeah.” I know that rich bastard. It’s only natural that you fell for him.

“He asked me out.”

“And you said yes.”

“No. I didn’t. That’s what I wanna talk to you about. I haven’t yet said anything.”

“Still listening.”

“I…uh..don’t take it personally.” Never. I know the next line. We don’t have that spark anymore.

She looks away while she says it. Typical.

“Lately I’ve been feeling..that..uh..we kinda don’t have that spark anymore.” And I thought we had fireworks.”May be it’s not you; may be it’s because of me.” Now she’s looking at me. Do it. Right in my face.

“And..?” I say. Still expressionless.

“I er…think this is not working. Us. We should stop seeing each other.” Ah! that’s my girl.

“Amen to that.”

“What…y-you’re okay with it?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

“Yeah..uh..your stuff…I..I’ll return it all tomorrow.”

“No need to. And it figures I don’t have any of yours, so I am free from that obligation.”

“Sure. As you wish.”

We don’t even say goodbye. That makes it two for the day. God knows what is next. And yes. Girls never fall for losers. Remember.

With the weight of the universe on my head, I walk my way towards my workplace. Yes. I wait on people at a restaurant. Part time, of course. Decent salary. Enough for my monthly expenses.

I’ve just attended to an order from a table. Right now I am standing idle. I see a couple entering. They are cute. And they do have the spark. They choose the table by the window. I would never do that. I hate to be spotted by people who might happen to know me. I always took the one which was considerably far from the window. Those were the days. No one who knew us would say we didn’t have the spark. Then why in the name of God? For one I wasn’t rich. That among many others..

“FIFTH day in a ROW! The food is cold as Antarctica!” My boss. I suppose it’s on me. “You were supposed to take this to table five fifteen minutes ago. Where the hell do you think you are?” It’s over. He’s going to fire me.

“Sorry boss. One more chance please. I am really having a bad day here.”

“I gave you four chances. You blew it. I have no choice but to ask you to leave right now and never show up again. And yes, for the record you’re fired.”

“But boss…”

“Leave right now or I’ll have someone escort you out.”

“Right boss.” A fitting end. No. Wait. The day isn’t over yet.

With nothing but pain, I walk back to my room. I have a few currency notes left in my wallet with no idea how long it will keep me going. I spot a general store. Of the very few things I can afford a pack of cigarettes seems to complete the jigsaw. I step out of the store. “Smoking kills!” It says on the cover. That’s exactly what I need right now. Right then, it strikes me. I still have control over a few things. I can end it my way; what started as fate’s day. A commercial fifty storey building is on way. Entry is never a problem. Nor is making it to the terrace. Now all I need is some strength to endure it.

I go through it all once again, as the elevator climbs up to the roof. I have screwed any chances of getting my degree with good grades. That too without considering the worst case scenario, of which I don’t have a damn clue. My girlfriend dumped me for a millionaire’s son ’cause we didn’t have that spark anymore. I am bankrupt, and have lost my only source of income. I have a family I haven’t talked to in ages. In short I don’t deserve to be on this planet. And Ping! I am there. I take out a page from my notepad and scribble a short and sweet suicide note, taking all responsibility and blaming no one. I put it in my pocket.

I am standing on the borderline. Right behind me is the world which despises me. The cruelty of which led me where I am standing right now. Whereas in my front there’s peace. There’s freedom. Am I doing the right thing here? Yes.

For one last time I feel the breeze. I touch my heart. It’s beating. Capturing the sunset, I close my eyes. And then I give myself up to gravity.

Fiftieth storey. It feels good to know that soon all my worries will have gone. That soon I will be far from this world which rejected me.

All of a sudden, I don’t know how, a memory of my friends back home resurfaces in my head. They were friends to die for. Friends who wouldn’t let me jump off this monster had they any hint of what I was going to do. Then why the hell did I not tell them anything. They’d have come and helped me sort everything out. For one I hadn’t talked to them since two years. I was busy. Busy doing what led me here? They’d surely have understood. But why the hell am I thinking this?

Fortieth storey. Or thirty ninth. I don’t care. Still struggling with my thoughts. Seems I have no control over them. Flashes of memories. I have no idea which one is which. Ah! There’s my childhood sweetheart. She’s the most beautiful girl I have seen all my life. But I never told her how I felt. May be she’s still waiting for me there. She, along with my friends. I should have visited my hometown once. I should go and tell her now. She wouldn’t say no. God, why are you doing this NOW?She is asking me to stay. She’s asking me not to leave her. Stop it, please!

Thirtieth storey. Rather somewhere in the late twenties. There’s my father. If there was ever a man I wanted to be, it was him. Though we had our differences, whenever I looked at or thought about him, I did it with utmost respect. Those long walks in the park, that patiently answering every question I had to ask, explaining how a robot was a far better toy than an airgun… How would he take the news of me being squashed like a tomato. He wouldn’t like that. Now he’s saying something. I try to listen but its just not getting to me. Wait. I’m not getting any of it. Oh Lord!

Must be twentieth. What the hell was all that about? I try to concentrate on the ground. But it’s not happening. Now My mother. Holy mother Mary. Please don’t.

It’s a considerably warm spring day. I am running late for home. I’d gone for a football match with friends and never kept track of the time. Convinced as hell, that I’ll end up with a pretty good scolding from ma and that I might even be grounded for a few days, I try to think of an excuse. I have none that can save me. Lost, I enter slowly. There she is. I wait. And here we go.

“You’ve been out since quite sometime. You must be hungry. Clean up. Food will be ready by then.”

“What…that’s it?”

“Pretty much. Hurry or it will get cold.” She smiles.

And now I am really paying her back for all those years. How would she react when she knows about her only son being crushed to pulp. She’d break. She can’t endure it.

Oh God! Tears flow down wetting my eyebrows and forehead.

Second storey. First. Am I doing the right thing here? Too late. WHAM!