The Suicide

A man sitting in the corner, in the dim light of the room, head on knees and hands curled around. That is how you might describe the average depressed man. But Raju Ramlingam was no ordinary man either. Even in depression he would not follow the stereotypes. And so he lied down in the center of the room, in bright sunshine, head on hands and legs folded over. Concentrating on a fly on the ceiling to evade the arms of sleep, he tried to recall the happy memories of his life, "I must not think about my short tempered boss. I should not think of how badly I want to kill that insane man. I must also not think about my dear wife. Oh! Why did she have to leave me, why?" Poor man, how he wished he could become a saint who could make himself happy whenever he wanted to. He was filled with sorrow, anxiety and remorse. He understood that the grief of separation is inescapable.

And then he reconsidered the idea that he had kept aside. Yes it was decided. Raju went in and brought some rope. he made a large neat loop and tied one end to a hook on the ceiling. His conscience echoed through him. "Is it all that necessary? I mean, you could just go the pub, have a drink and forget all this you know." But Raju was fixed of purpose and replied, "Now that I've come so far, I can't back out." He then said a last goodbye to the world and put his head into the loop. He took a deep long breath and let himself loose.

And he fell to the ground with a dull thud. "Ouch!" he cried, "now I can't even die in peace!" He sat upright and moments later thought, "Hmm. May be the drink wasn't such a bad idea after all."