4th July 2000
The interns were glancing over the doctor's shoulder eager to see the procedure of removing the deadly substances from the body. The whole emergency room was in a frenzy of activity. You see I was not the only person lying there ... A car load of people had chosen that very day to meet with an accident. And I had chosen a holiday to end my hopeless and meaningless life, thus the shortage of staff in the hospital.
The Doc left me to fend for myself among the junior docs and the paramedics while he shuffled off to another table.I assumed it was because the others wanted to live and I wanted death and I guessed the doc thought it best to let me do what I wanted while he attended on what they wanted.
Later though I was told that the docs try and attend people who have a greater chance of living ........
27th June 2000
I am utterly hopeless... My life is meaningless. For 17 years I have lived this life which has been more of an existence than of a life.
My Teacher tells me that the worst thing to happen to anyone is to see "life pass by". I think that is exactly what is happening to me.I hate myself. Everyday I see a new fault in me I see a new flaw in myself.
I want to end my life..... I do not want to live an existence that has no meaning except for to find out what else is wrong.
3rd July 2000
Today I was standing on the edge of the cliff I usually visit ... I wanted to take that jump, but could not. The love of existence hasnt yet left my brain though it has long left my heart.I was scared of taking the final plunge. I am scared to do the most important thing of my life... I am afraid to die.
With this heavy realisation dawning on me ... I am destined nopes ... I am sentenced to live this hopeless and meaningless life.
I think it was after that I decided to read through my life again which I had meticulously recorded in a series of dairies kept well hiddden from the rest of the world.I hoped to find atleast one meaningful incident with the memory of which the rest of existence would be made less burdensome.
I later realised it was a wrong thing to do ... or now that I look back at it , may be that was the right thing to do.
My diaries showed my pathetic life, bordering on hate and jealousy ... wallowing in sorrow and self pity.
On 4th Of July Tuesday when the rest of my countrymen were celebrating their Independence day, I decided to end my life. I was chicken when it came to pain and blood , so I decided to do it the easiest and the non messy way .At least the snap after death wouldnt look like a scrambled egg gone bad ... So I decided to overdose myself with sleeping pills, and die doing what I liked to do best .. sleep.
What made me do it , Why I did it? What were my reasons? These are often asked questions , mostly out of curiousity than out of concern.
I could tell them anything... I could tell them that I was harrassed by a step mother or was being sexually abused by an elderly uncle or had failed miserably in love.... there can be a hundred reasons. The mind can think up lies in a jiffy, atleast mine can.
Why and how dont matter ... I felt I had reasons enough to end my life , I felt my life was meaningless enough to conscend to mere existence ....
I decided , be it in a fit of haste , or be it a cold blooded murder of self , I had decided to end it and that was it.
Until the doc managed to save me and a couple of others in the car crash. I felt another failure to strike me , a failure to end my own life. I was never talented enough to do anything else in life , having spent the whole of my life strumming the guitar and writing my morose thoughts in my diary.
I reached out for the guitar and began strumming it ... The whole day, I never knew how the day passed , the agony of the wiress sticking out of me was forgotten , the pain of the tubes travelliing from the nose to the stomach was forgotten, the needly pricking my vein was forgotten.... me , my sorrow and my guitar was what mattered the whole of that day.
An elderly man walked up to me the next day to thank me. I was surprised ... I had never ever in the remotest way made myself useful to anyone for someone to thank me as profusely as this old man with tears in his eyes did now.
AsI asked him the reason , he spoke between his sobs that his daughter was one of the people involved in the car crash.The doctors had told her that she would die in a day .... the day I spent strumming my giutar next door oblivious to her pain. He told me that my sounds had made her relax and die easy.... my music did what most sedatives had failed to do ... It had eased her pain and put her to a peaceful death.
The relevation jolted me to the realisation of the futility of life,death, remorse, worry, etc etc .... name the emotion and I understood it then. It was like a lightining striking my heart.. it was also like a heavy weight being lifted from my heart, It was like the ultimate happiness, it was also like death, it was bliss, it was heavenly and obscenly satisfying that someone's death needed to teach me life.
Suicide, yes I did commit suicide, not on 4th of July but on that day when she died, I never saw her, did not see her corpse... but I died when she did, I commited suicide. But then it was not me , It was the self pity in me, it was the "self sorrow" in me,I walked out of the hospital, a new man with a mission, for her father asked me to sing and play my guitar in the cancer ward where his daughter worked earlier.
The smile on the lips in the church where I play and the cancer ward where I play makes me bless the day I wanted to commit suicide, for otherwise , I would never have learnt to smile and bask in the happiness of others, I would never have understood that life is never meaningless.... It takes a soul searching to do to find out the real potential.
Yes, I finally did commit suicide.