Ward Number – 6
When he first noticed me, I was on the floor, adorned with mud, stinking and perspiring. Extending his hand, he scrutinised me with unwavering eyes, a thin smile plastered on his face. I grasped his hand and got up. A quiver shot up my spine and I was startled. He gaped at me, and this made my heart flutter. Not looking back, I scampered home as fast as I could, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn’t explain what I felt. I pulled out my diary and picked up a pen. As I wandered in the aisles of my thoughts, I recalled past impressions and memories of him.
Retrieving myself from the deep trance my brain was in, I placed my pen on the blank paper but I was devoid of words. I couldn’t fathom my emotions or put my thoughts into words. I glanced at my diary and focused on the smudged dot which had marked its territory on the white page. Frustrated, I threw the pen away, immediately followed by the diary. As I lay on my bed, my thoughts wandered back to him, again.
I thought of his face: it seemed so real in my imagination. He was handsome. He was just not any ordinary guy; someone you wouldn’t miss in a crowd: fair, lean, impressively tall, a hint of a beard on the contours of his face and his hair tousled. His eyes, brown orbs, coruscated in the dim light.
I slept soundly after scribbling a single line on my diary’s page, “I can’t write anything.”
Here I am now, sitting by his side, looking at him. A lot had changed since then, he was bald, there were dark bags under his eyes, his face was wrinkled and he didn’t have the manliness of his earlier days.
It was the very same date, just two years later. I sobbed quietly and pulled out my diary and tried to describe him. Again, my mind was filled with imagination but I was out of words. I wrote the same line over again, “I can’t write anything.” The only difference was, I was out of words because I was jubilant then, and I am out of words, because I am in the dumps now.
I looked away with teary eyes. I could vaguely make out words on the board on the door that read, “Cancer Ward No. 6”
~ Sreevani Gunda | Edited by Farrokh