Don't make me feel offended.
Said he looking straight into his stark naked being in the mirror.
Days have passed and I have lost my demure,he thought.
He thought of the days when people would envy him of his gaunt body, of the flawless structure.
But a major accident had left most of his lower chin disfigured.
This combined with a powerful malignant liver disease had killed his appetite and love for food.
And finally the loss of his wife had left whatever desire he had for life.
Today while coming back from the graveyard the empty house and his hollow body were his only belongings.
A shining blade in all its glaze was looking at him.
Smiling as if hungry for his blood,for his life.
It was just ready to cut his veins with a slash of his fist,to put to silence the last jargon of a body that clinkered heavily with the drops of water seeping from the tap.
With high hopes and crumpled beliefs,he was ready to end the pain,pain of living.
The blade glistened in his hands,at the tip of a murderer who was a saint at the same time.
A last slash waited and just then over the shelf shone the lone hairclip of his wife.
And for the last moments before death he saw her,felt her and thought of every single moment they ever had.
And remembered the belief she had in him,in his disfigured face in his shrivelled appetite,in her volatile life.
That was the moment when the blade fell down and the spark to live returned back.
His eyes now glistned back for their love they shared.
Then he felt that killing himself now would mean killing all the wonderful memories he ever had of his loving wife.It would mean ending all the moments where he can still feel happy cause he had a wonderful life once.
The naked body was not naked anymore.the disfigured face was beautiful now cause it had the beautiful lines that had aged with his love for her.
Suddenly he headed to the kitchen to subside his craving for a wholesome dinner.
~Harsha
