There are tokens inside your pocket and a payphone at the end of the street. But you won’t really take the few steps to make that call to your father to tell him that despite all the differences, you love him. There is a letter beneath the stack of your favourite books, subtly kept inside a fancy envelope. But you won’t give it to the girl with whom you imagined your future. You have a story saved in your drafts folder for past many years. But you won’t send it to your brother to clear off the grudge that kills you every day.
Jimmy is one such person. Like me and you.
He has locked himself up in a prison and calls for help every minute. The words are his keys and they lie inside his pocket. Will he set himself free?
He’s in a relationship, for the past two years, with a girl he doesn’t love. He wants to tell her the truth, but he doesn’t.
“Do you know what’s the worst part of not being in love with someone who loves you so badly? You may never find someone else who loves you as much as she does,” says Jimmy as he throws his beer can away.
“I think you should go and tell her the truth. By not telling her that you don’t love her, you’re cheating on her.”
“Nancy, the truth is not always like a winter breeze. Sometimes, it’s like the air that asphyxiates and smothers. I’m not saying that I won’t tell her. I’m just waiting for the…for the right moment.”
In an attempt to wait for the perfect moment, we carry the heavy baggage of truth on our backs. We let it break our spine and shoulders. Only when the moment slips out of our hand, we realise its value.
The girl who never told her father that she loves him regrets when her father commits suicide. The guy who never gave letters to her love regrets when she marries someone else. The guy who never spoke to clear off the grudges with his brother regrets when his brother dies in a bike accident.
Will Jimmy sail the same boat of regret?
At 11:30 P.M., he is sitting inside his car and writes, “Dear Jenny.”
He begins writing further, but his vehicle gets hit by an over speeding truck. He’s stuck in his overturned car, and can do nothing but wait for death to pick him up in her arms.
At 11:35 P.M., he is dead.
The five minutes he had, he wished to see Jenny for the last time. He wanted to tell her the truth, so she doesn’t end up crying for someone who never loved her.
He died in the same prison where he had locked up himself. He had taken out the key from his pocket and kept it on the table too. But nobody can set him free because the key is now broken and just says- “Dear Jenny.”