The Half Truth

THE BEGINNING

The milky crescent lights up the blue sky. The silence is deafening. He wakes up like a pre – programmed machine. His eyes are dry, tears betray him. He has replayed the sequence many times. Hence, there is no fear, just a need which would be fulfilled soon. The room is frighteningly in order. Books stacked up neatly on the study table. The sheets on the beds are devoid of any creases. School shoes kept under the almirah. The satchel bag for school lies ignored in a quiet corner. The ironed uniform hangs confidently on the door knob. Everything is spotless. He takes of hid glasses. The thin metal frames clink lightly against the glass top table. He wants it to be quiet and painless. Knowingly, he takes out a small plastic bottle from the drawer. The wooden chair creaks as he sits on it and places the bottle on the table in front of him. Seconds tick by. Each movement of the clock’s hands sounds like a bullet tearing the silence. Calmly, he poured water from the jug kept on the table, in the single glass placed right next to it. Cold sweat breaks out on his brow. He tightens the knitted woolen muffler around his neck. His hands shake as he breaks the bottle’s seal. Small white colored round tablets tumble out in his hand. His hand rises to his lips. The trembling hands hesitate and lower down a little to show their resistance. But he gathers strength, takes a deep sigh, for the first time showing some emotion. He thrusts all the tablets in his mouth in one swift abrupt motion. He surprises himself. Some of the white round tablets fall around. He fumbles for the glass of water but drops it. The glass crashes on the cold marble floor and water wets his feet. He drinks straight from the jug. His face turns blue as he tries to swallow all the medicines at one go. But he fails and pukes. He blacks out and wakes up in a hospital.