The Reason

On his hospital bed, he lay unmoved,
staring at the fan going round.
His eyes wide open, but pupils motionless,
just as the furniture, the white walls around.

Smell of medicines, phenyl, urine, blood,
voices from other rooms, of pain.
Whispering nurses, talking doctors,
rolling stretchers, behind the door curtain.

Suffering from AIDS, a mockery of life,
a curse born out of careless fun.
Incurably ailed, he hopelessly waited for death,
by a disease, beyond the healers’ cun.

Heaps of capsules in the white china bowl,
Wrists, arms, ridden with holes of injections.
A life ridden with unanswered calls,
Ignorances, excuses, social rejections.

The doctors claimed, he could live a few years,
If he could take his overly heavy dose.
But he was unwilling to live, to bear,
and to oppose any more treatment, he chose.

“What reason has God left with me to live,
after this horrible curse that he has cast?”
As he just lay there, lost deep in sadness,
with teary eyes, himself he asked.

He now often tossed his pills, out of the window,
skipped prescriptions, offended the nurse.
Weak, bony, frustrated, critically healthy,
he was now so sick, he couldn’t be worse.

So one day, after hours of contemplation,
he finally reached the hard decision.
He will cease his life, now and here,
to live he had no hope, no reason.

So he rose from his bed, walked to the window,
stared out for a while, then lifted the pane.
He stood motionless for a few minutes,
contemplating his decision, again and again.

This had to be done!! So he started off,
lifted his leg and put it out.
Holding back with one hand, outside he leaned,
but just before he jumped, he heard a shout.

“HEY!!!” a panicked girl voiced,
from the window right in front of his room.
He looked at her, she was scared,
probably thinking of him, as a suicidal loon.

He was frozen, speechless, unable to jump,
embarrassed he gulped, then fixed a bit, his hair.
Managed a half smile, to cover his guilt,
felt ashamed, awkward, by her worried stare.

He struggled back inside the room,
Confused, panting, he fell on the floor.
Then he slowly got up, reached for the window,
to look at her face, once more.

Seeing that he was back and safe,
she smiled at him and waved.
He looked at her, managed a mixed expression,
happy to see her, but sad his attempt that had failed.

He limped back to his bed,
grumped, sighed, bit his nails and then lay down.
Later noon, evening, night he did lay,
sometimes with a smile, sometimes with a frown.

Next morning, very early he woke up,
went to the window and looked outside.
there she was, combing her long black hair,
listening to some song, on the transistor by her side.

Another patient she was, in the adjoining wing,
in hospital attire, weak, palish, thin.
But beautiful, simple, attractive, appealing,
the person who had saved him from doing the sin.

He went to the bathroom, had a bath, shaved,
dressed in clean clothes, combed his hair.
Took a thick book, went to the window,
and there he smartly sat on a chair.

It was not long before she noticed him,
and so he soon heard, the familiar ‘hey’.
Just the initiation was need for these lonely souls,
with that done, they chatted through the day.

The nurse, the doctor, the pills, syringes,
he met, he talked, he took with a smile.
He chatted, he shared, commiserated with her,
feeling light, happy, hopeful all the while.

Victims of the same disease,
they understood, encouraged each other.
Inspired by this new friend, he restarted,
his drug dose, with faith, to become better.

Days and weeks passed from that first day,
from liking to love, his feelings changed.
She was so like him, in views and thoughts,
that he felt their meeting was divinely arranged.

His health improved, his weakness died down,
doctor said that he could now live for a few years.
He was happy, content with his improvement,
he now ignored his curse and fatality fears.

So one day, they said he could now go out,
he was strong enough to walk or even go home.
It was like a new life, with new future,
though short, he didn’t want to live it alone.

He went to the window, to tell her about it,
she was not there, the window was shut.
Maybe she was sleeping or had gone for a test,
He was too happy, had to share this, but.

He dressed, went out, bought some roses,
and went straight ahead on the way to her room.
She had told him her room number,
so he searched for it and found it soon.

In a dark corner of the building it was,
last door in the hallway, low lit, unclean.
He knocked once, twice, thrice,
nothing to be heard, no one to be seen.

He turned the handle, opened the door,
felt very surprised with what he did see.
Racks, almiras, cartons of supplies.
A store???? How could this be?

He searched around, inquired the hospital staff,
they all confirmed, the room as a store.
Strange, shocking, unbelievable, disturbing,
he confirmed it, till his doubts were no more.

Her name, details, were not on the records,
nor of present or anywhere in the past.
How??? He asked himself repeatedly,
till the fact was utterly clear at last.

Shocked, as he was, he speechlessly stood,
thinking if it all, was reality or an illusion.
It took him a few hours to accept,
the fact, that he had been in love with his imagination.

But what wonder this was, he thought,
that the reason, the hope to live ahead.
had been personified and came calling him,
and it managed to pull him out of certain death.