Suicide is a social stigma. A decision that is never lightly made. One random day, I had a dream that I committed suicide. And the following is what happened once I woke up.
With the clock ticking away in the background Silah kept waiting for the results. Enveloped in silence and darkness she sat in her room. Praying. Praying that the result be in her favour.
Her body had gone stiff because of being in the same posture for almost an hour. To relieve herself from the state of curiosity, she picked up her phone and dialed a number. With every ring her heartbeat got louder and faster. After what it seemed to be hours (which really were only a few seconds) she heard a voice.
“Hello.” The person at the other end of the line said.
Silah was neither in a state of conducting pleasant talk nor did she indulge in it. Rather she asked, “The decision’s been made?” She sounded as if she expected the worst.
The silence that followed fell hard on her ear drums.
“Yes,” he said. “You lost.”
She could not speak for a minute or two as she was concentrating all her energies in restraining the tears that threatened to spill at any moment.
After she regained control over herself, keeping her voice as strong as she was capable of, she asked, “By how many?”
“Only two. Only if a few members would have…”
She cut him in mid sentence.
“Bothered to come? Now you see what I meant about relying on people who are apparently your friends?”
“Silah, but I really believed that you could have made it. I don’t know what to say right now.”
There was a light sound that preceded Silah’s next words which could very well have been an attempt to laugh. An attempt at which she failed miserably.
“Oh please Mr President…”
“Not again Silah!”
“Yes ofcourse, Aamir. How can I forget that you do not like to be addressed as ‘Sir’, ‘Boss’ or ‘Mr President’? Anyways, coming back to the point. Which is, I lost. It’s a fact. I am disappointed for sure but I’m not disheartened.”
“Only you could say such a thing girl!”
“I am serious. Not being in the Executive Body does not mean that I am no more part of the Club. Because I am. I will still work for it. The need is of passion and not a position.”
“True that, but it must still…”
“Aamir I understand that you really care about all the members but I am fine. As I told you already this is not the end of Time.”
There was silence for a second.
“And that rhymes with ryhme!” Silah exclaimed.
“Yeah,” Aamir sounded confused as if not really sure what to say.
“Well… As I don’t have any duties to perform right now, I think it is my time with my pen.” She seemed happy at the prospect.
Aamir was happy that she had words, her source of comfort. To keep her from the depths of disappointment. Aamir, though not really a fan of the art of reading or writing, decided he must leave her to her devices now that she was in her element back again.
“Sure,” he replied, “I won’t be a hindrance anymore and let you weave to the subtle cloth of words.”
She chuckled at his choice of words and said,
And she disconnected the call.
Though she had lost (even though it was really important for her) she understood that life was not all about a club or a position. To do something and achieve something, a position has never a prerequisite.
She understood all well that the only way forward was filled with obstacles. And sometimes people needed to fail for new horizons to open to them.