Comatose

“Exit Seraphim..”

“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;

I open my eyes and all is born again.”

-Sylvia Plath

Crash!

21^st August 1998, 11:23 p. m.

I bleed through my nose,

My legs are bent at the knees,

And my hands don’t move.

My head hurts-

A piercing pain that is flowing through every distributed vein in my body.

I feel something warm trickle down my cheek.

Blacked out by the pain, I guess it must be blood.

11: 27 p. m.

4 minutes hence; the longest 4 minutes my life has ever seen.

240 seconds.

I’m counting, waiting and trying hard to catch my breath.

I choke instead.

Voices- too many of them.

Like someone turned up 10 cassette players all at once.

Overwhelmed by this din, my eyes close for the last time.

Allowing one teardrop to roll down the side of my chin, they flicker no more.

11: 30 p. m

A tug, 3 slaps and what seems like a volley of nudges.

“Wake up….wake up!”

‘Is she alive?…Feel her pulse.’

“Take her to the hospital…fast!”

‘Call her parents…look it up on her phone..’

“Should we call for the police?”

‘Shh!…Look!..her fingers. She’s waking up…How long till we get there?’

Them voices again!

I manage to open one eye while the other struggles.

Faces – 3 of them, or maybe 4.

This quartet unison now tells me that I’m going to be alright,

..That my parents have been informed,

..That nothing serious has happened,

..That I’m going to be alright...yet again.

At the hospital, many more voices begin to cackle,

Mustering everything I have within me,

In a bid to silence and combat the pain,

I shriek, yell and scream.

A second later, I find myself howling as a needle penetrates my right arm.

I begin to feel cold.

Panic and frailty of judgment, caused morphine to be overshot through my system, driving me into the subconscious.

Sedated and silent.

I’m at peace now.

It’s all gone – the anguish, the shock, the blood, the people, the pain, the plans, the worries.

I feel my soul.

I see myself and hear my heart.

I see you..

We are meant to be.

And as you stand by the door, looking over my pulse – less body, I hear your heart pray.

I see the tears you try to fight off.

It is hard to remain stoic when you’re robbed of what’s yours.

Two more weeks for the wedding;

This is what we’ve been waiting for, holding on to so many years, wanting to be with each other more than ever.

I understand your anger and your pain.

I wish you could hear me now, when I say,

I’m not going to let you down,

I promise I will always be around.

Mama, it breaks me to see you cry like this.

I need you to be strong,

Be strong for papa.

Tell him that I will be back.

With so many songs left to sing,

Who else is going to play it loud?

Who else is going to make him proud?

Don’t let your faith shake,

Pray as you always do,

What is purposed will definitely come through.

23^rd August, 1998, 9:17 a. m.

A single collision preceded a bilateral brain damage, manifested through a 35. 17 hour long slumber.

I looked at my life in retrospect.

I was guilty of the mistakes I had made,

Afraid of the consequences I might have to confront,

And disappointed by the failures I countered.

Perhaps it would make a fine decision to stay back,

To save my being from physical scars,

To be celestially bound, safe and aloof.

But would it really…?

No!

You – who has taught me to love, live, laugh and learn;

You – who has taught me to fight, pray, give and work,

I could never disregard or keep away from.

This life is mine to nurture and there is more to it,

than tracheal tubes, cylinders and a glass room.

The vein in my wrist throbs,

While my legs feel cramped and heavy.

As the tingles and aches return to my body,

I hear a voice in my ear –

“Baby”

I hear it again

“Claire!..Baby, are you listening?”

I pry my eyes open.

‘Yes’, I attempt feebly.