The Doctor made a face as if someone had just died.
He was the youngest doctor out of 4 different doctors that Aakash consulted in the past 3 months. And despite all his degrees and qualifications, probably he was still not comfortable delivering the bad news to a patient. He had the same news for Aakash but in a tone as if he was talking to a dead man already.
Aakash pulled himself up, clutched the envelope containing pictures of his body in negative and moved towards the door feeling the pitiful eyes of the doctor pinching his back.
It was sunny outside. As sunny as it could be after six hours of incessant rainfall in the month of September. Aakash was walking with his head down. He hardly recognised when he saw his own face in the poodle of water on the road. He stepped on it and moved on. Another day was over. Aakash had been counting days and then unconsciously deducting them from the number given by the doctors. The result of the equation was always blurred but he knew the numbers were going down. Months turned into weeks.
He thought of his life he had built since the death of his parents. He thought of Maati, his wife of 2 years. What would she be doing right now? In their home. She would probably be thinking of changing the curtains. Or trimming the plants in the garden. Or making planning about dinner. Oh, he loved Maati. Despite all his efforts, he could not bring himself up to tell Maati about his condition. She would be devastated. He would be more worried about her than himself.
He hailed a cab and got in. Every time he sees Maati, his heart aches. He acts and behaves normally. He laughs, goes to movies, helps her chose the dress to put on as they go out for dinner. Sometimes he cooks and she watches him sitting at the dining table. On Sundays, they go to the park near the lake and lie down under the tree. Maati sings a song and Aakash plays with her hair. But when he closes his eyes, he only sees darkness. When he stops smiling, he wants to cry.
*
He is fed up of the rounds of the doctors. It’s of no use anyways. He has to prepare Maati regarding the future. He has to tell her. Today!
He quietly leaves the office even before lunch. He feels too tired. He takes a few steps down the road and he feels he just ran a marathon. He hands down a cab.
Knocking on the door of his home, he is holding the railing tightly. It has just started raining and he is getting irritated as the bucketing raindrops dampen his resolve to talk to Maati. He is standing on the stairway knocking on the door for 10 minutes now. Suddenly he remembers that he has a spare key. He has never needed it in the last 2 years of his mechanical life. Maati was always there on the door smiling as he got home from work.
Maybe she has gone to get groceries. He unlocks the door and gets in. He puts down his briefcase on the couch and looks around. Nobody! Something makes him go towards the bedroom. And he pushes the door open. Two pairs of startled eyes meet his.
*
He hurried past the last shop on the main road leading to the highway, always running. He can see now the valley except his vision is blurred. His eyes are burning as if he has not slept in days. His head is spinning. He cannot walk any more. He stops near a big tree on the side of the road and leans against it.
He closes his eyes as he tries to control his breathing and coughs heavily. His hands try to reach the left pocket of his trousers to take out handkerchief. The effort drains all his energy and makes him fall down on the soft muddy ground below awkwardly. Another bout of cough follows which he tries to shut out with both his hands. He half opens his eyes as he feels a warm fluid on his hands...
He feels drifting as he tries to recollect what happened during the last hour.
He is still lying there under the tree as a trickle of fresh warm blood on his hands merges with Maati’s cold blood already smeared on his hands...
