Seeing him just lie there with closed eyes, mouth slightly parted as though we was about to smile, head tilted to the side, was the most disconcerting sight that I had seen. It was as though he was sleeping.
There was a large tube going down his mouth. It was only later I realised that it was the intubation tube that was keeping him breathing, but wholly artificially. He was gone. The IV to his arm was still attached.
Through the corners of his eyes that had been taped shut lay little tears, just about to fall.
The nurse has specifically told me not to make a noise, there were others around the unit, but I didn't care. What did it matter? I had lost something I could never find again, I had lost what I fought so hard to keep, I had lost something that was a part of me.
I took his limp hand, his hand that was so similar to my own, almost identical. My own body shaking, I kissed him goodbye. I didn't want to leave. I promised him I would stay put at least until he got better. I promised. And I was going to keep my promise - though he had not kept his.
-----
School was starting again in two days, Mum wanted me to come home. Ofcourse she did - it was for my best. School is always important - this time though, it didn't take priority. My intuition pressed me to stay there, and not leave - Not for a while atleast. I begged and pleaded and screamed at my mother to allow me to stay a few more days and explained that school was insignificant. Consequently, she talked to my cousin (a doctor), coming to the conclusion that it was best for me to stay put until the time was right .As it turned out... if I hadnt stayed I may have regretted it for the rest of my life.
I made a promise and I wasn't going to leave, not for school, not for my friends, not for the world. I wanted to be there for him. I wouldn't leave, not now. I knew that my presence meant a lot to him - he wanted me there. I say this with no vanity, it is simply a fact.
I promised to stay inIndia until my father got out of hospital. And eventually; he did get out of hospital. As a matter of fact, only two days later he left the hospital . And he left, dead.
I took his limp hand, his hand that was so similar to my own, almost identical. My own body shaking, I kissed him goodbye. I didn't want to leave. I promised him I would stay put at least until he got better. I promised. And I was going to keep my promise - though he had not kept his.
-----
School was starting again in two days, Mum wanted me to come home. Ofcourse she did - it was for my best. School is always important - this time though, it didn't take priority. My intuition pressed me to stay there, and not leave - Not for a while atleast. I begged and pleaded and screamed at my mother to allow me to stay a few more days and explained that school was insignificant. Consequently, she talked to my cousin (a doctor), coming to the conclusion that it was best for me to stay put until the time was right .As it turned out... if I hadnt stayed I may have regretted it for the rest of my life.
I made a promise and I wasn't going to leave, not for school, not for my friends, not for the world. I wanted to be there for him. I wouldn't leave, not now. I knew that my presence meant a lot to him - he wanted me there. I say this with no vanity, it is simply a fact.
I promised to stay in
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