It is a well known fact that most of the last words are heard by the nurses. Here is a story of such kind. Not based on a true story, and continuation of DEAR DIARY. Enjoy. 

LAST WORDS.

All there is between us is silence. Awkward silence. Though there is a regular beep from the heart monitor, saying that he is alive. Since I am in my fifty’s and a nurse doing the work for twenty five years, I am supposed to watch him.

The boy has been attacked badly by a group of men. The doctors try to keep their mouth shut, but every now and then, a word reaches my half working ears. There is a woman outside drenched in tears and pacing, and a man in his suite summoning up all Gods as though he is t he ultimate priest.

I try to read the boy’s mind; and I almost see what he sees:

I am walking on a road with two stone walls on either side. Creepers are hanging low, and the song ‘Reign Of Love’ is playing somewhere. There is a beach at the end and I see a boy and a man play. I can say from the hair that he is the same that is fighting for his life. I touch the boy’s bony shoulder, and the landscape changes to a swimming pool.

The man in the suite is playing with his son. There’s some vibe making my vision blurry, something pulling me back from the childhood of innocence.

My eyes focus on the boy again. There is a small scar on his right forehead, something of crescent shaped. And his face glows like one too.

I remember some last words said by some people on the same bed. Mr. Issac, on the year 2007 said “I can see her now,” and I knew he was referring to his late wife. Mr. Hussain’s last words were “Goodnight sunshine.” He was one of the wittiest patient and a stroke took it away. Ms. Narayan yelled her last words, “It’s Ms. Narayan! Not Mrs.” She had a way with humour too.

The beeps bring me back to the room. The boy is breathing hard, and struggling. His mother’s face pressed so hard onto the window as though it may break it, worries me.

I page all the doctors at once. The boy’s eyes are open and I can see that are blue like the ocean.

He sucks in the last bit of air and asks “Is she alive?” and I say she is though I have no idea who he is referring too. It wasn’t the time to give the boy bad news. I had to give him the last bit of hope.

His eyes are closing and his shaky breath pierces my ear, “Tell Ma and Da that I’ll see them soon.”

I stand now motionless. In the list of all the best words I’ve heard, I’ve never noted down a young boy’s. And the first one etched onto my heart.

Slowly, I walked out, mustering up the courage for a conversation. 

As I stand by the beach, I feel a wave of satisfaction wash over me. The sun blazing down and the stars of the earth shining up. My brain feels something new. A feel of getting high without drugs; being happy unreasonably. A feel of one way unconditional love; my love for the waves. I can feel it in my eyes, in my heart.

The wind blows gently, and I see a father and son running around. They are playing with a beach ball. The innocence of time rests with the boy as his laughter makes the creator’s heart melt. In a nearby tea shop, sits a man and his daughter; him feeding her with crumbs of whatever there is available while the child pleads to feed a kitten that is licking onto its paws. The unseen faces of the world unveils, a scene no camera could catch it perfect, than the eyes of humanity. My heart skips a beat, for the beat has fallen for the boy and the girl, for their enchanting innocence.

A sudden jolt of emotion pangs like a lightning bolt. I realize there are emotions like happiness and sadness. And now, I’m curious in unlocking the sacred path to them, and the catalyst of mind gives me hope and confidence. Suddenly, I’m ready for experiments and taking risks. I want to jump in the moment where the sun kisses the sea. To see the utter silence of both as they meet each other after hours; the outburst of their emotions drawn in the colour of shades of red. Of how they fool around and fiddle with each other until it’s time for him, the ultimate source, to hide under the arms of the sparkling sea.

I notice the sun descending, and the sweet joy of the sea. She is calling him by raising her heart beats; the waves are excited too for they are now able to caress the soul of the sand. The beach and the sun; now I realize that what they have is the epitome of all love stories.

I look around, smile at the boy, wave at the girl and finally go for it. To witness the euphoria of the sun and the sea, the sand and the waves. I leap onto the gush of water singing to the sand.