The Last Thought!

The sun was making its way between the hills, giving a last call to the birds to return home, colouring the sky mild tangerine. The vision was beginning to be overpowered by shadows. The rhythmic sound of electric blubs after a long flicker brought the world alive.

The glowing darkness added more to the impaired vision of Darshan. Searching for the light switch, he scratched the wall surface with his face buried in the pillow.

“CLICK”

The light similar to the street bulbs outside took two seconds to illuminate the bedroom. Darshan stood by his bed, looking outside the window.

He extended his arm to grab the bottle from the table beside him. Watching the children immersed in their phone screens and batter talking amongst themselves, he opened the bottle without looking. Though at the moment, Darshan was at complete peace without a single thought crossing his mind, like a newborn baby after completing his sleep, confused about the world he was seeing around him.

But the feelings of Darshan got the better of him for he sensed something was coming.

Rolling his eyes to the other side of the window, he watched two boys sitting on the fence. Hiding the cigarettes in their hand, the boys smoked aware of the surrounding around them. Passing the cigarettes after every 2–3 puffs, the boys seemed to chat about something, probably complaining about life, thought Darshan.

Surprised by his mind’s thoughtless reaction, Darshan gulped three large lumps. Drawing his attention to the centre of the view outside his window, he saw a woman alone, sitting on the bench drowned in her own thoughts.

The sky was beginning to look more like a dark blue canvas. With the pollution of modern-day innovation, the stars were replaced by busy air traffic twinkles, passing through the sky like a rhythmic unfading shower of meteorites.

Holding his bottle in hand, watching people and aeroplanes pass on the ground and air, the first thought struck!

‘Why is love the reason for anything?’?asked a small whisper in his heart.

‘Global leaders are using it to their advantage,’ the voice continued, ‘youth is madly in search of the so-called “the one”.’

‘And every media on this planet feeding hope to the hopeless minds and souls.’

One question was followed by the other, the voice seemed louder with each question. Explicitly showing every sign of a troubled mind.

‘Is finding happiness in this hopeless world the purpose of life?’?the voice asked in a hasty and deafening growl.

‘Find the purpose, find love, earn money, beg for love, follow the unnecessary rituals, make sense out of non-sense traditions, for what?’?said the voice calming itself with the increased breathing of Darshan.?‘Just so that a few people can shed a tear beside the sacred fire burning your physical presence and spreading the diseases through the air of the diseased lifeless body.’

‘From birth to death, is it the burning desire to find something that makes life worth living?’?asked the different voice in a low grunt.?‘How? Life is meant to live and love, right?’

‘If you observe closely, love is the greatest weapon that humanity has equipped itself with’?continued the other voice.?‘And look at the crooked system composed by these peacekeepers is trying everything to restrict us it.’

‘It’s better to die than to just live for the sake of some unworthy lifeless living bodies!’?echoed the voice in Darshan’s head loud to silence the reality surrounding him.

The buzzing electric sound of the street lamps in the society added more fuel to the never-ending chain of thoughts. But this being the norm for Darshan, he decided to go with the last thought he had.

Composed by the rhythm of the fan and electric bulb combined, Darshan picked up his phone. Scanning through his compilation of all memories and flashbacks of the miseries that came to haunt him every night.

Darshan stared at the picture of the long-lost, never-got never-forgot love of his life. Smiling at her smiling pictures, Darshan looked away at his trophy collection. Trying to remember every trophy he had collected over the years.

He touched them, reliving the feeling of a winner which he once was, trying to harness the joyous victories. He picked up a small glass trophy standing in the back, reading his name and wiping the dust off the nameplate with his thumb, he placed the trophy in front.

‘Is it even worth it?’?asked the other voice in a deeper tone.?‘Years of hard work for a few days of smile, laughter and luxury? Or to have some good memories to look back on when you die?’

Ignoring the questions for the first time in a long while, Darshan looked away. Slowly making his way into the kitchen, Darshan searched for a knife. Unable to find the butcher knife in the knife holder, he moved to the sink.

Picking up the water-drenched knife from the sink. Darshan flicked his thumb to check the sharpness.

The knife had a frightening sharpness that could be felt in the felt a few millimetres away from the blade.

‘Clearly, I would die a painful death,’?Darshan explained himself.

Discarding the thoughts in a head jerk, he brought the knife close to his throat in a blink. With the tip being a centimetre or so away from the vocal ligament, the corniculate cartilage could sense the sheer sharpness of the razor-sharp blade.

The sharpness of the butcher knife Darshan was holding was terrifying like the long-range sword attacks they show in animations.

‘This would kill me weeping, leaving me to gasp for breath.’?Darshan thought to himself.

Burying his face in his hands, he let a drop escape the right eye. But he had made up his mind long back. Fed up with the constantly recurring thoughts, the internal dialogue seemed his reality.

‘A bong-hit can be your prison break!’?suggested the first voice back referring to some of the favourite series of Darshan.

Temporary thoughts have always attracted Darshan’s interest. Giving it one thought as a cry for help, Darshan scrapped it in search of salvation.

‘In the graceful lie of life salvation lies,’?said a familiar voice in Darshan’s head.

‘Search for the truth, the ultimate truth,’?the voice hummed stiffening his ears straight.?‘Let death be the one true destination and a little pain its humble journey.’

‘It’s worth it’s said the voice in a frightening silence. ‘Your salvation lies there, your truth lies there!’

With got up, rushed to the bed and picked up the yellow scarf from the untouched drawer of his table.

Circling the scarf two times around his neck, Darshan began to strangle himself. The soft fabric allowed the air to pass. Being aware of the fact that he is not being strangled, Darshan pulled both ends of the scarf with a little more strength.

A jerk on the neck and the entire body of the Darshan was stiffened, like a schoolboy reporting to someone.

The body begins to lose control of itself, and the struggle for life with one’s mind started. This was the moment of truth that Darshan has long waited for. The ugly trust issues, going that extra mile for someone, the longing wait in the wilderness, the gasping truth of helplessness, and the virtue of regret and ignorance.

The last few thoughts were and will be the only ones that matter to Darshan now. A dialogue that only he will carry with him, a secret that he had been searching for, the moment of truth that should’ve actually mattered to him.

‘Wait!’?said a calming voice.

‘Let yourself lose! Give yourself a chance to live!’

After a brief pause, the voice continued in a slow convincing tone, ‘Just a little maybe!’

Darshan recognized the voice as his life. The beats of heart cells crying for help, lungs pulling air out of every balloon to give the fragile body a few extra minutes. Darshan always expected this to be a strong argument that life would put forward, like a lawyer fighting under the banner of blind justice.

What surprised him the most was his calm, composed, caring nature.

In the last moment of truth, when Darshan’s eyes began to fog with blood had sensed reality.

But as his vocals were feeling the stretch of the scarf straggled by the neck muscles, Darshan let out a struggling cry filled with pain, despair and realization.

‘Darshan!’?said the voice,?‘lose that scarf!’

With the index finger twitching, a voice from his heart and brain rushed to his fingers to not lose it.?‘Don’t give up now! You’re so close!’?dared the voice which Darshan recognized as death. His fascination, his reality and his identity. Somewhere, it also posed as an act to be remembered, after all every soul craves attention and love even though the dumb luck runs out every time it tires.

‘Salvation lies within!’

With this Darshan closed his eyes, body stiffed but still in his control.

As Darshan closed his eyes, the reddish-orange coloured vision took over vision. Breaking itself like a fluid, it began to move, changed its colour and take a certain shape.

Instantly recognizing the liquid sketched outlined background from his childhood, Darshan was lost in the happy moments of his life. He could see him cry, laugh and be loved by everyone.

Reliving every moment, the misery around him went numb, the emotional side allowing darshan to loosen the grip and curve his lips in a small smile.

But the real canvas was turning into back. Making the shapes clearer and the pictures more real. Slowly covering his entire vision, Darshan soon found himself in his teens. His impaired vision and bulged pants were enough proof to show realize that.

The first picture showed then showed Darshan in a corner, cocooned with two shadows watching him. The boy in the picture seemed to whisper something in a loop. ‘It’s a lie. You’re not like that!’

But Darshan could process this particular chain of thoughts in the limited time he had left, and the canvas started to shift, bringing in a new portrayal.

The canvas seemed colourless for a while before bursting out into colours. Showing the arrival of good energy. Slowly the pictures took the form of colours, like one of those Vincent Van Gogh paintings.

Taking the form of a beautiful women’s outline with wavy hair coloured black and changing colours of her face and neck showing her importance and feelings. The picture of the outlined woman caressing her hair behind her ear. While the women covered the left side of Darshan’s vision, the right side had a miniature image of Darshan booked on a computer.

The picture sook turned Darshan facing the outlined women and simultaneously the woman emptying herself, leaving nothing but a dangling outline, like a moving still picture.

The illustration then brought Darshan into the centre, and the woman’s outline changed to the shape of a bong.

Till now, two major incidents have flashed before Darshan’s eyes. While his body had lost its control and was struggling for its freedom, the well-controlled and disciplined hands were Darshan’s only saviour.

Even in the midst of this chaos, one random thought gazed at the troubled mind of darshan.?‘Funny, even the body demands freedom from captivity!’?Witnessing the neck trying to stretch gasping for a whip of fresh air.

Soon the canvas started to flash all the forgotten yet important memories. With every picture death drew on Darshan’s closed eyelids, the connection with reality became even more stagnant.

On the verge of escaping eternal sleep, Darshan’s life or consciousness, the voice Darshan recognized at the start, wished for one happy moment. Opening his eyes, which now had turned blood red, Darshan let a little smile, realizing he found the ultimate truth.

His body’s struggle for life didn’t bother him anymore. Gasping for one last breath, Darshan closed his eyes, imagining the picture of his lost love, parents and a child in baggy clothes with a cricket bat in his hand.

‘And you wished to live this lie!’?Death whispered to both life and Darshan now.

Opening his eyes with a regretful smile on his face now, Darshan tried to peak the words to bring life to his justice by allowing his little conscious to speak. But as soon as the vocal tried to move, and Darshan opened his mouth, the life inside the body freed itself.

Allowing Darshan to fall into the hollows of darkness and clarity with one wish to live, love and laugh!