By Shisir Parajuli
I remember that date very well: 9th
September 1999. I was in hospital. The hospital looked very horrified; the
environment of the hospital seemed very gloomy as a very wild storm coming very
soon. The dogs howling outside. It was Room no: 201 and bed no: 003 looked gloomier
than other beds and rooms. The boy who was on the bed laid stiffs, his legs
hanged outside from the bed, his body looked curved and static. He was in the
pool of blood and he produced the sound of pain as if he got some sharp pin in
his heart. And that sound makes me crazy because it was the sound produced by
my little son.
I can’t
really imagine that day, when the doctor bended his head by saying that he was
no-more. How could he leave me, huh! He promised me that he will always stay with
us and cares us. How God could steal our child from us? How God could be
selfish? Didn’t he had any idea of our son leave us we were be alone?
As the
doctor said me he was died from tuberculosis. My mind didn’t work at that time,
only ears heard something from doctor’s mouth. He murmured something and tried
to console me but I was lying in the floor as if I am going too died very soon.
The doctor
helped me to stand and fixed me to the small chair. Then, he said ‘Please sir
control yourself and take the dead body of you child.’ ‘NO! MY SON WAS NOT
DIED’, I replied toward doctor with loud voice. My son was not died. ‘Look!
Look towards his eyes, his eyes says something to me’. He promised me that he
will stay with us forever and you doctor said that he was died. How could I
believe in your voice? No God can’t be rude like that. How could I give this
message to his mother that her son was died? My wife’s prays, her faith upon
god can’t be waste and be like garbage. No, I can’t! She will die if she saw her
son’s death body.
No one
wants to listen my story so that I told my painful story to you my dear pet.
Listen my rest of the story. The people in the hospital tried their best to
console me and gave me sympathy but I was doing like obstinacy child and crazy
like, the most important things from my life was lost or destroyed.
After three
hour, I controlled myself and came to the real world where my child leaves us,
where I can’t imagine anything about this artificial world. I went near to my
little child’s death body as doctor said that he was died but his eyes says
something towards me. I can’t see that eyes in taking longer times. I was not
able to read his eyes because I was also the part of his ultimate death because
I can’t manage proper money and medicine for him. We basically belong to poor
family, you know. But nobody wanted to listen my painful story that, ‘my child
was died’.
‘Not
everyone in this world has the fate to cherish the fullest form of love. Some
are born, just to experience the abbreviation of it’. My child, my boy leaves
us. That time…that moment… that second… I… I… I just thought…
‘My little child was
died’
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