Epitaph

Epitaph

31st December, 1952.

Today I consider myself in the embracement of the first taste of old age that comes with the completion of 40 years of living in strength. I can feel the decaying of my flesh in some parts which reminds me of my dying youth after surviving these 40 long years. Though I have always seen myself as a defeated person who could not live the lives of the crowds, I am proud enough to express my blissful life of 40 years a complete win over the degradation of life that comes with hunger, poverty, loneliness and other disastrous infirmity. And that I believe is my greatest victory.

Although living alone is a great experience of adventure, I have always held on to one aim which has brought me closer to the realm of the greatest adventure. That greatest adventure is nothing more than kissing the feet of death and yet the refusal of death to accept its disciple gave me the splendour of facing death to a very close instant which even words cannot express its magnificence. This rat race continued between the mighty avenger and me which spirited me to experience the awesome adventure of death, yet failed to achieve it. However, this is the end; this is where the adventure stops. I have seen enough of this world, negativity exploding everywhere, tearing me apart and depressing my mind, pushing me towards darkness and loneliness. With the clock ticking on and time sailing off my hands I have abandoned all thoughts of living and have decided to surrender myself to the mystic beauty of death before the midnight strikes. As an adieu to the world behind me I leave my final confessions framed in words so that they could possibly react upon my death positively.

I thank God for giving me the strength to live my life all by myself; I remained unmarried which positively beckons me to challenge death as I have no responsibility over anybody to rejoice myself in the pleasure of being a master to a prisoner as my cell is empty. With this certainty, I guiltlessly bestow on my soul to accept the assurance of death which will come to me by midnight with the consumption of this poison in my hand and heal me off my loneliness. It’s true; I am completely alone in this whole world and even my mind finds it difficult to connect myself with the outside world, I am truly into myself. This reflection of loneliness gratifies me however with the pleasure of being a company to myself. The bottle of poison dangles in my one hand while the other holding a pen with a heart so much in pain and my weak chest in terrible shiver, I kept thinking if I have gambled away each and every moment of my life. I even hesitated to think if I have made this world suffer because of me. By tomorrow morning every newspaper in town will cover the issue related to my death displaying the subject as: ‘Mr. Gautam Baruah, a prominent writer, succumbed to his death after consuming a bottle of poison.’ The letters will be big enough to hide some of the artificial praises crafted with extra efforts in the nick of time which will be added to the genuine achievements I have attained in my lifetime in the literary field. This thought amuses me and smile seems to overtake my still lips as I have no idea if they even know me as a person. Will anybody ever come to know that my work has nothing to do with my strain and why even after falling in love with five different girls, I could not make anyone of them mine, why I could not express my emptiness to anybody and why my face was always hidden under a coveted mask? Will anyone ever be able to reveal the real me?

There is only five minutes left for the clock to strike twelve. The clicking clock on the wall sounded like a hammer banging my heart which pained me cruelly. To resist the advance of the devilish sound, I caught hold of its pendulum and there, time stopped still, motionless. The timelessness of the dark room prompted me to feel my solitude. My heart was feeling very weak.

Death is certain; my doubt had long vanished in the blur of time. To hold on time and ruminating the past will just add a few more minutes to my dying life. So, my mind contented my heart when it accepted to draw the poison bottle closer to my mouth with wave of thoughts about the consequences of death circulating side by side. Shall I be lost in the infinity of the infinite? The one, who had composed poems, sang songs and faced many atrocities of life- will he be vanished forever after his death?

While thus sparing time for little thoughts to pass on, a feel of someone true to me pricked my mind whom I have forgotten to remember in the haste for death which surprised me and quite diverted my mind. Then something enchanting caught my eyes, it was the love filled eyes of my ‘Buri’ whose innocent face glowed before me.

Under the lure of death I was forgetting someone whom I can solemnly claim as my own and that was none other than Buri herself. Lying close to my feet, the sound of her slow and soft breathing filled my ears which distracted me from my errand for a minute and tempted me to live my life once more.

However, Buri cannot lend me her sympathy nor can she coax me. She is only a dog and as such she is free from all kinds of distortion brought about by the barriers in caste, creed and community. But, she can claim her similarity with the dog named ‘Neri’ who was immortalized by Tagore in his fiction.

‘Buri!’

Hearing my voice she quietly came out from under the table and seated herself on a stool next to me. She doesn’t know that in the next few minutes I will be lost to her forever. I looked at her and then, we both stared at each other for a long time without even once closing our eyelids and spoke to her-‘Don’t you remember Buri how I spent three days without food last year at a time like this one, but fed you with sweets which I bought with the four annas I had borrowed from Sajjad? I hope you remember because you are not a man. Don’t you remember how I used to read out my poetry in long December nights whenever my heart felt low? My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad. Stay with me…speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak. Once small boys pelted stones at you which fractured your leg and I was in tense for one whole month. And there was also an obvious expense on your medication, don’t you remember? Buri, don’t look at me with such loving eyes since I feel very afraid of losing you. Fear, you know?’

After having spoken so many things, I am feeling tired now. Resting, I look at Buri and I can feel that she has answered my doubts without saying anything for she gazed at me understandingly. How I met Buri for the first time also bears a story. I have always led a lonely life and in one such evening after having cooked my food, I resolved to watch a cinema and then have dinner on returning home. The cinema was over and as I had planned, headed straight homewards just to find out my food being eaten by a dog in my kitchen itself. The scene enraged me so much that I could feel my anger climbing up to the tip of my hair. Taking one stick in hand, I made my advance towards her to beat her. She was helpless as she failed to find her way out and unable to retreat, she surrendered herself by felling down on the floor before me with closed eyes. The innocence in her action deeply touched me and even to this day my heart melts whenever I look back in time and sees her in fear bowing down with closed eyes. I patted her for a long time and offered her the leftovers too.

The night came over deeply and this time I have to complete my task. To have a taste of the last part of my life, I lit my cigarette and once in between my lips, I breathed in its heavenly smoke through my lungs and puffed it out in ecstasy. Ah! What a comfort! Suddenly the cry of Buri rang in through my ears and it disrupted my momentary pleasure. The cry reminded me that she was unfed the whole day. But…after an hour I am going to die and then who will take responsibility over her? I undeniably know that she will not eat unless I feed her. And if she won’t eat, she will die of hunger. There is another chance of her dying in the street if she fights with the dirty street dogs over a piece of bone lying unkempt in city dustbins which I never wish to let it happen. The thought of her dying uncared in the streets trembled my soul. The cigarette in my fingers ashen up and before my sense could return in order, I lit up another cigarette.

Such thoughts unite my whole being with my soul which makes life seem so simple. I had forgotten that Buri was just a dog. But, to me she has always been an exception; yes, she is neither human nor a dog, she is a droplet in the vast ocean of life like me. However, I abandon this thought for now.

Holding her collar, I pulled her towards me and caressed her. I could see that her eyelids were closed as if she knew what I was thinking. I can hear the ‘tong-tong’ sound coming from the area police station reminding me that five minutes have passed long ago and its twelve o’clock now. I cannot hold on for long as it will then fail me again. Wasting no time, I poured half of the poison into Buri’s mouth. In resistance to death, Buri quivered and fell off my arms to the floor.

I’ll wait on for a few minutes till Buri succumb to her death and then I’ll arrest myself to death by consuming the remaining quantity.