Mohan

The way to my room was a narrow corridor from the main hall extended towards the kitchen, corridor had a jolly work on one side through out till the room with holes & design, I stayed in the first floor, I would see the terrace which was always shady due to the goose berry tree spreading it’s branches over the terrace, my room had a window which too gave a complete look of the terrace, and huge opening opposite to the window, double size of the window, with an iron grill, I used a thick cotton screen to close the opening partially, my room had double doors one from the corridor and the other with a door, having a sit-out like a small balcony.

I loved my room, since I would see everything completely sitting there, but none can find me watching, I used to sleep there, whenever I need privacy I would steal few hours resting feeling comfortable, it gave me safe secure and privacy. I would hear people chatting on the road, I would see the opposite house, I had rented the first floor of the opposite house too, owner of the house stayed in the ground floor.

I am a person who always like to be in the crowd, with friends or with my family or with my colleagues in the work place, mostly wrangling, commenting, sharing, mentoring, and being assisted, but end of the day I would sneak at least half an hour to be myself, to get inside, as an introvert, being passive, it always gave me a sense I am alive, and I too have needs.

I stretched myself thrusting my legs comfortably, it was half past midnight, silence prevailed everywhere, pin drop silence, air was still, I was not able to sleep, and it was a sleepless night like most of my nights encroached with deep thinking.

I blinked in the dark, it appeared as a black tainted heavy sheath covering my existence, few feeble white spots smeared, I don’t want to stare at the dark black instead I try to link the feeble white smeared spots to relate one to one. My past resembles the dark sheath & the white spots are my feeble memory. It’s like a disappeared past, I accept the dark past, I am not anxious about the forgotten past, nor I try to remember but I feel if I resume it would be of greater interest. I have a self thought; I allow it might have originated from my forgotten past, the self thought explains I have spent my disappeared past in the most inordinate way of existence and the white spots are my flaws which I try to cover up with utmost intense of forgetting, veiling.

When I first saw Mohan he was playing with a Pomeranian dog, taking him for a brief walk, he was reserved, not a talkative or an outspoken but a shy and hesitant person, he was skinny, with a round spectacles. I heard he was studying aeronautical engineering and he discontinued his studies due to the sudden demise of his father a doctor by profession. He was a bachelor, his brother was married and got settled near by, claiming his share of the family property his brother would often start a wrangle with his sister family and with Mohan. The property was unseparated, Mohan’s brother urged for a separation. I would often hear noise of verbal fight from the opposite house from my room.

One evening I was resting in my room as usual, the verbal war started from the opposite house, I could hear voice of Mohan, he was frustrated, he said he would die if nobody likes him there, I wondered why these people were unable to sort out differences, after all this is going to be one life, one living, what is the rest they are going to do ? I assumed people are patience less, they loose hope, they often get tired, not rejuvenating, people are greedy too, Mohan is a good guy, he has fallen prey for the greedy and selfish people. I slipped to tiresome sleep out of day long work.

Next afternoon I returned home little early than the usual time, got into my sweat pants which I used to wear while at home, cool cotton pants, had my face washed, getting the towel from the wardrobe wiping my face, heard the door bell rung, I opened the door, Mohan was there, I was surprised, he said someone asked him to meet me, that I wanted him to talk to me. I was equally surprised I have not told anyone, I was not prepared, I did not know how to react! I said I did not tell anyone, I could see clear indication of disapproval in his face, but what I could do, I am frightened of his family members, all of them were my friends, if in any case they accuse me off misleading Mohan in the ongoing clash for the family property, I would loose my reputation, I did not want to mingle and get hurt, I was firm, I said I did not ask anyone to summon him to meet me.

For the next couple of days mostly I was tired getting home after executing heavy work load, sleeping, rising up early the next morning, and getting out to work, happened to be my routine. But for the Saturday, Sunday weekends I used to get up late little before breakfast. Since it was Saturday I was sleeping till morning 9.30, I started hearing noise from the opposite house, it was Mohan's brother in law, as usual he got boozed in morning itself, I rolled in my couch unbearable to continue my sleep. I knew sleeping further would not do any good to me, I got up, washed my face, got a wrinkled cotton shirt from the wardrobe, wearing, I went down to know what’s happening down in the opposite house.

Mohan’s brother in law was standing in front of the door, tapping, pushing the door which was locked from inside, he was unable to stand, his language unable to understand as he was drunk, I could hear him saying Mohan is inside and have taken a poison, in disbelief I asked what he mean, he said Mohan has consumed poison and is struggling for life, I did know what to do, I kept my eye in the key hole to see what’s going on, yes it was true, Mohan is struggling for life flat on the floor, kicking his legs of the last minute to survive. I was shocked!

Normally in times of emergency and tight corners, I would think for few seconds, that few seconds of realization of reality gave me strength to react to the emergency. I banged the door, it was so stubborn, I ran from a meter ahead banging by my shoulders, no way, I searched for a tool to break open, I remembered we had a long thick iron rod which we use to crush & grind paddy and grains, I took that broke the door open, Mohan was in the last seconds of life, I picked him up with help of his boozed brother in law, someone have summoned a private ambulance, but Mohan was no more, he was dead.

I felt guilt, I leaned on the wall, I could smell the strong odor of poison he consumed, I was tired, I left for home, had a bath, even after, still I perceived the poison odor at my nose, I was tired, this was not physical, I was tired due to guilt, I felt I have done a mistake, when Mohan came to me to talk to me, I should have talked to him, I was disgraced of my own conscience, before my eyes I lost a man, a good man, who had dreams which were hard for him to materialize, I lost the man who was expecting me to redeem him from his unfulfilled longings of life. I was sick, I was bedridden for four months since the demise of Mohan, I recovered, but still Mohan lives in my heart and he would live for ever.