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  • Writer's pictureAekansh Dixit


“The tragedy is not that the people do not love us but because we fall in love with those who are not able to love us.”

“WHAT???” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The phone slipped from my hand. It fell down with a thud so loud that my heart skipped a beat. My eye sight blurred. The very thought of imagining her in that condition left me dead inside out.

Panicking was the only thing I could do – and did. I reached the spot in an impatient fifteen minutes. Those fifteen minutes were probably the most, the most, THE MOST longest fifteen minutes of my whole lifetime.

“Where’s it? Where’s it?” I asked every random stranger my eyes could see “Where’s the fucking emergency room?” I couldn’t keep sight of my direction as I was walking clumsily. Somebody held my hand and directed me towards that room – don’t remember who that person was. I wish I could thank him – but I had better jobs to do.

I looked at her. Covered in blood. Her eyes as wide as a church door, but probably suggesting something completely opposite. The idea wasn’t clear – my mind couldn’t interpret it. I looked at her – and just couldn’t stop looking. I couldn’t and didn’t think of anything. Didn’t talk, didn’t believe, didn’t ask, didn’t move – just looked. My eyesight was blurred again as my knees lost the power to handle my weight.

Somebody picked me up, but I punched him. I was angry. This couldn’t be happening. No, not at this time! Not when everything was going to be fine! Not when she promised me she’ll be there. Not when I found my love. Not, just not now! I shouted, I cried, and she just looked at me – expressionless.

I felt dizzy. I punched the wall.

“This couldn’t be happening!” I scream but my voice died inside my throat. Too scared to even reach her ears. “How the fuck did this happen? What happened to her!!! REVIVE HER! FUCKING DOCS!!”

I shouted, looked at the doctors, even pulled one’s collar, the guards ran towards me to stop me. I punched one of them. Someone grabbed my left hand –  I kick him and fall to the ground as I hear the bullet pierce through my tibia. I cry. I cry. I cry. I look up, and see the bright light fade into darkness. The light bulb on the top wasn’t bothering me any more.

I try getting up. I look at her. I want to touch her. I collapse.


No, I didn’t die. No – I didn’t lose consciousness. No I didn’t faint. I collapsed. Mentally. All my brain cells were so tightly tangled inside – and on top of each other that I couldn’t do anything about it. I was thinking, but I couldn’t move myself. I was listening – but couldn’t respond. I was seeing – but couldn’t believe.

I gathered all the strength I had, and tried to get up. The blood loss wasn’t bothering me. The guards had me on a stretcher. I broke through them and just before slipping from my own blood, I managed to grab hold of the bed’s corner. I get up. I look at her. Into her eyes – like I had never seen them.

They were telling me something. They were scared. They weren’t closed. They had fear written all over them. They needed someone to make them believe in life again. They needed somebody to love. They needed me. They loved me. They needed me. And when I’m here for her – she’s not.

Now when I need her, she’s not. Now when I need to re-believe, she’s not here. Now when I need to love her, she’s not here. Now when I’m giving it my hundred percent, she’s not here. This is not fair. Life is not fair. It never was.

I finally fall on the ground for one last time. My eyes shut, and my heart beats dropped. Later, my body was placed right next to hers. I had to. I couldn’t evade it. It was the promise I made to her. To be there for her till the end. It was the promise I made to myself. To be there for her, even after the end.

And after all, “I was just following the map that leads to you!”

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