Not On My Own
Mani lay emancipated and spent on his hospital bed with a death like somberness. He was the single occupant of that particular ward, it seemed that he was on his own, all alone! It was hard to believe that this was the same outgoing and handsome Mani with chiseled features, piercing golden-brown eyes and straight brownish black hair with a prominent widow’s peak on his forehead! Mani who once was the toast of the town, the very life of almost all the parties that he happened to find himself in was ill, really ill. All of a sudden, unknowingly and unbeckoned, tears rolled out of the confines of his eyes, silently, like mute spectators, bound by their helplessness against all that is meted out in the name of reality… in the guise of the so called ‘actual life.’ Before he could raise his feeble hands to brush them away, it was done for him. Was he hallucinating, yet again? It couldn’t be. It was not actually possible for a brain drugged and numbed by over the counter prescri...