Page 110 - Till the Last Breath . . .

12

Dushyant Roy

The needles tugged at his skin as he rolled over and tried to get some sleep.

He knew he wouldn’t get any that night. The pain had slowly become
permanent. Painkillers were less effective now and the pain was now a part

of him. He tossed and turned, thinking about Kajal and the argument from
moments earlier. He wondered why she had bothered after all these years.

Was it because she still loved him? Did she still think of him when in bed
with Varun? Maybe it was because she felt guilty about what she had done.
It was ten. The curtain was still drawn between them. The girl on the

other bed had been a constant source of irritation. His skin crawled every
time he looked at her. Even on the verge of death, he wasn’t at peace. The

last thing he wanted was to have the image of a chattering young girl
gnawing at his eyes in his last moments. Instead, he needed a smoke.
There were still twenty rolled joints safely tucked into one of the books a

friend of his had dropped at the hospital. He took three of them out and
stuffed them into his robe. Slowly, he unscrewed the drips on his hand and

pulled them off. He walked out gingerly, trying not to attract attention to his
tottering self. He had taken just five steps away from the room when

someone called out his name. He turned around to see Zarah leaning against
the wall, her eyebrows knitted and her lips curved into a sinister smirk.

‘Going for a smoke again?’ Her voice a measured mix of sternness and
playful exuberance. He nodded. ‘What did I tell you about not vanishing
again?’ she asked.

‘Come along? I have enough for both of us,’ he responded. Usually
unmoved when challenged, his eyes were like a cowering dog who had

pooped in the hallway.