LIFE AND LIES #67 | The Shortest Story

Dedicated to a friend of mine who is no longer in this world.

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A friend had died.

Still, the world 

Hadn't come to a stop.

Perhaps, it should have.

Because I gave my presentation

Smiling from ear to ear.

And later at night,

I drank to my fill

To honour him.

Because life is too fricking short,

But at times,

Feels too bloody long.

If you google

'Shortest Short Story'

You'll get the following result:

"For sale: Baby shoes, never worn."

Popularly attributed to Ernest Hemingway.

Ernest, I'm sorry 

But I ended up writing 

Something similar myself.

"Hang in there, my friend. He did."

I'm not proud of what I wrote. 

It is what it is.

"Who is this about," my friend asked after reading my poem.

"He was my batchmate in school," I replied. "He committed suicide yesterday by hanging."

"Why? What happened?"

"Nobody knows. He had cut himself off from everyone."

"Was he involved with someone? Any childhood trauma?"

"I don't know. I never met him after school. I asked around. He joined a good college right after school. He didn't even have to take a gap year, like most of us. And thereafter, got a nice placement from the college, too. Nobody knows what went wrong."

"A wise man once said," my friend replied calmly, "The best often die by their own hand just to get away, and those left behind can never quite understand why anybody would ever want to get away from them."

I was familiar with the quote as well as the wise man. I continued, "It's just that, I remember him as the funniest guy in our batch. No matter how much we made fun of him, he never got offended. In fact, he sometimes amused us at his own expense. How could anyone of us know what went underneath all that. And now that he's gone, I can't help but think of you. I couldn't help him. Maybe, I could help you."

"There's still time for me," my friend smiled. "Don't you worry."

"You might mock me, but I'm going to say it anyway. You can give me a call anytime you want. I won't complain. Whenever you feel low, I'll be there. To talk or whatever. Doesn't matter if you cry wolf a thousand times, I'll get to you anyway."

"Thanks, but despite all the intrusive thoughts, I still have my parents to care for. And while they are alive, the only scenario I can imagine for suicide is either joblessness or debilitating disease."

"Fine, but my offer still stands. Also..." I hesitated for a moment before saying, "There will be times when I'll be at my lowest. You need to be there for me too then."

"Sure, not a problem," my friend chuckled. "Give me a call. I'll be there along with alcohol."

We laughed. 

And I remembered few other lines of the same wise man: We are here to drink beer. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.

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Rest in peace, Rohit, wherever you are!