The sun was shining, but the biting wind sweeping down from the hills wandered freely in the crowded city like an unwelcome visitor.
I was able to hear the hubbub of the people throughout the city—from the window next to my bed.
I have lived in the city for years, yet I have never heard the sound of the populace so distinctly.
Usually, I'd found them a nuisance—no more than a disruption to my work.
But today, something was different.
The annoyance had dissipated, replaced by something new: interest.
Something unusual stirred in me.
These voices were infused with feeling.
A woman, with anger in her tone, got into an argument with a taxi driver who'd taken her for a ride.
Teenagers laughed and screamed with teenage energy, organizing slumber parties, talking about what they'd watched.
But all voices did not whisper joy.
There was a child somewhere nearby, in some other ward of this very hospital, crying beside the bedside of his deceased father.
I could not see him, but often you do not have to look to know.
To listen is enough.
His grief. it bore a suffocating weight—an infinite sadness that filled the sterile air.
These voices—these emotions—they make us aware of what we are.
We all feel them. I did. Everyone does.
Joy, anger, sorrow, excitement—these are what make us human.
But the most painful thing in life isn't sadness.
It's the lack of feeling.
It's when you feel nothing.
No purpose.
No want.
No drive.
When everything is. empty.
Maybe that's what I'm feeling right now.
Not sadness.
Not anger.
Just a feeling of neutrality.
I also wished always to sleep for some time, but sleeping in a bed for such a long time looks so exhausting.
Hospital beds are not that cozy anyway.
It is 1 week that I have been hospitalised here,
And in these 7 days I used to daydream about my whole life and it is—
Hunh! nothing special at all.
Gradually, each and every day in my office felt exhausting.
Imagine spending the entire day working at the desk but instead of compliments,
All you are left to hear is the constant groaning of your boss about your poor performance—
And getting demotivated to work.
First day I worked there, I had expectations and aspirations to have friends there.
But it did not make any difference whatever I worked hard—
All the people there were ordinary colleagues to me.
What can I even expect from them?
They are all human beings with families
Who want to work hard and become promoted in order to better their life.
Time passed by slowly.
I had acquired some friends and was glad for them—
Until they turned their back on me in order to become promoted.
This is the world, after all,
Where people look after themselves and only then listen to other people.
And I am not able to blame them.
It's not as if I'm trying to belittle them.
But seriously, given this—
If I were them, I would have done the same thing.
Because this is the world and I have yet to learn it.
"Everything began to shift the moment you realized childhood had quietly slipped through your fingers."
You have friends now that are unlike in high-school.
Parent-relationships change.
Love-life doesn't function the same way.
Being an adult—growing up—
Is not as I remember it being as a child.
At times I wish to return to that innocent child.
But I know I am unable to.
I must face this world as it stands today
And by becoming what I have become today!
Slowly, the boy with dreams and aspirations and hobbies
Got caught up by life.
Couldn't do what he was capable of doing,
Just because of the baggage of responsibility he carries!
I was tired of my life.
And all of it was so dull.
All the people around me look like they are not my friends—
Although by mouth, I call them my friends.
Relationships with my parents completely changed.
I no longer felt intimate with them as I did before when I was young.
Continuous relationship conflicts and breakups.
Poverty.
And above all—the worst:
The existential crisis!
"I really wanted to kill myself."
But I did not have the guts to die.
After all, I never had the guts to make my own decisions.
All I ever did was act like a sheep among the flock of sheep—
No creativity.
All I ever did was do what I was told.
And I feel sometimes life listens to your plea and answers your longing in the most unexpected way possible.
"Sometimes life does listen to your plea."
It was a long day—
Commuting from work in a metro filled with lots of people like me:
Tired,
Frustrated for having worked all day,
And just longing to feel the bed.
I could hardly breathe.
And suddenly, something hurt.
A sharp pain in my lungs.
I couldn't breathe properly.
And before I could attempt to continue—
I passed out.
And the next thing I knew,
I was in a hospital bed
With a doctor over me, informing me:
"Mr. Robert, sorry to inform you, but you have a bad 3rd stage lung cancer."
"according to the your current condition you may have only a year or less to live."