Love story that I never had...

 Excerpts from my upcoming book..

On the very first visit to Jammu and Kashmir after more than four years, I was dying to meet my old friends with whom I had spent my whole life. I travelled a distance of more than 700 Kms and throughout journey I was thinking about my people and the time I spent with them. Although I had updated my Facebook status, but many of my friends were not convinced because I had done it before many times, so they were uncertain about me. Therefore on reaching Jammu, I called few friends and asked them to convey message to others to organize a get together.

The day of get-together was decided and everyone but Dr Rishi reached on time.  David, the one who was in constant contact with everyone in the group informed us that Dr Rishi could not make it because of some emergency at Hospital. Among all, Dr Rishi was very close to me and was also my childhood friend. He called me to seek apology for not delivering his promise, considering the situation I assured him a visit to hospital in personal.

I went to meet Dr Rishi at Government Medical College and Hospital on my first visit to Jammu in four years. Nothing has been changed in Jammu hospitals, same long queues of patients outside OPD and same crowd of attendants roaming in the hospital. I hate visiting Dr Rishi for multiple reasons; first he remains occupied with his noble job, secondly the hospital environment is awful.

Thank God, Rishi received me from the emergency otherwise I would have been lost in the wards. We proceed towards his cabin.

“Oh good to see you after a long time,” Rishi said, as we reached in his cabin.

Same here, I said tugging stool from side.

Don’t sit on it you can use chair, Rishi said and shoved his chair towards me.

Oh thanks, so how is your profession going, I asked.

It’s fine and I’m sorry for last time he said in trembling voice and engaged himself in papers.

It’s all right, I said and is everything ok? I asked, sensing his nervousness.

No, nothing is fine, I am just tired of this, he groaned and said we are here to treat patients.

Than what? I asked.

I am fed up with the people who try to end their lives, he sobbed, especially this young generation.

What you are talking about, I said removing pile of papers from his desk.

Stand up I’ll show you something, Rishi pulled me to his ward.

Perplexed I asked what the hell you want to show me, I hate roaming in wards, hearing patients wailing with pain.

Don’t worry, you will get your answer soon, Rishi said turning to me.

After sometime we reached to corner bed. A young Sikh boy, aging 26-27 years was lying with oxygen cylinders and glucose drip around his bed.

Who is he, my instant question to Dr Rishi.

He is a PhD scholar, his name is Arshdeep Singh, introduced Rishi.

So what, I said.

He has attempted to commit suicide thrice, Rishi said with stillness in his voice.

Thrice! I asked astonishingly, but why.

Yes thrice, the reason is unknown. Rishi said ‘he is reluctant to talk to anyone’. Not even to his parents.

But he is looking stubborn, I whispered to Rishi, looking at the young Sikh boy, who was given injection of sleep.

May be he is, but for last five days this boy has attempted to end his life, twice in the hospital, Rishi said pointing towards police men. They are for his security.

At what time he will retrieve his conscious, I asked anxiously.

But what you have to do with him, Rishi surprisingly asked speeding up the flow of glucose from his drip.

I want to talk to him, I said covering his feet with sheet.

He is not ready to talk to his parents, how you can expect he will talk to you, Rishi said.

But I can try, I maintained.

Here comes his parent, Rishi signaled me, you can talk to them.

A skinny man in blue turban and white beard along with a middle aged woman in black suit greeted Rishi and asked about health of their son.

We have given him Meperidine, within an hour he will wake up, Rishi said and introduced me.

I greeted them and wished I could talk to their son to know reason.

He is reluctant to talk to anyone, mother wailed.

But, I will try. May be he feel comfortable to talk to me, I obstinate.

Father with tears in his eyes agreed. You can also try, but please don’t be harsh on him.

I promised I’ll not.

Rishi told me to follow him until, the boy awake.

We went to canteen, but my mind was with the boy. What made him to take this extreme step, I asked Rishi.

Taking sip of tea, he said I am confused how a PhD scholar could do this.

I agreed and kept on discussing other things, but I was curious to talk to him right now.

It was 2:45 pm, I went to his room again. The boy was reclining on his bed, but was not sleeping. I found he was deliberately doing so to keep himself away from his parents.

Can I talk to him now, I asked with inquisitiveness, his father nodded and left the place along with his wife.

I tugged stool near to his bed to make an eye contact with the boy. Hello Arsh, how you are feeling now, I asked in a friendly tone.

He turned his eyes away, without any reaction.

I tried again, hello I am Pardeep Singh Bali, I am friend to Dr Rishi.

But no response, he didn’t even looked at me this time.

I am a PhD scholar and want to be your friend as I need some help, I made an effort

What you want, he asked with soreness in his tone. This time it worked, I murmured.

Can we talk for a while, I implored.

I don’t want to talk to anyone, he denied my proposal.

But why, I want to be your friend and I know you are enough strong to tell me what actually happened with you, I said.

 Please go from here, I am ok and I am not strong to answer you, he shouted.

Ok please calm down, I said I know PhD is dry and leaves very less options for a scholar to think, anyone can take this extreme step.

Oh shut up, I never bother of PhD, as with my research is almost complete’, he said this time bit confident.

Then why you are trying to commit suicide, I asked with more firmness.

It is none of your business, he shouted again please leave me alone.

Accepting failure, I stood up from the stool saying only stupid can try to end life for a girl, and went back towards door.

Yes, I am stupid, he said, managing to sit properly.

I turned to him, whispered what a hit. What! you tried to commit suicide only for a girl, I asked.

No, he said hanging his head down, it was not only about a girl but about a love.

But what actually happen to you, I asked.

I was hurt, is all what I can tell you, he retorted and laid back to his place.

I kept quite noticing tears flushing out of his eyes.

I am sorry, if my being inquisitive bruises your scars, I said.

No, it’s not because of you, the thing is that I am not yet out of the pain.

I may not compel you to tell me what agony you faced, but if you feel your sharing may give you some relief and you feel lighter, I am all-ears-to-you, I said firmly.

Oh thanks, he said but I don’t know where to start from.

Ok, you can start from her name, I suggested facetiously.

Her name is Aneet Kour, he said with numbness in his eyes.

I was waiting for something to come up next, but he just stopped and started weeping loudly.

I could not see a young lad crying like a kid, so I stood up from my place and hold his hands. You are enough brave, don’t hurt yourself and your parents, as I saw his mother peeping through window.

I cannot talk about her, he said.

Its ok, if you feel telling me about her will hurt you, then please don’t, I said, sensing gravity of situation.

It’s not about her, he said resolutely it’s about me and her. We have been together for last six years and it was love of almost 14 years, he said, I feel guilty for not making things happen. I feel guilty for every moment I spent with her.

I kept quiet to make him comfortable.