Bubye All- I'm in Death Bed

Hi,

I’m writing this with heavy heart but I’ve no other choice. I’m leaving you all. I’m in death bed now. So frail and puny that both my legs are broken thanks to LOTTA and my left hand is pathetically unmovable. It must be some good deeds that have been done by me in last birth, my right hand is good enough to type but still I’m counting my days... sorry hours in this world. My friend LOTTA who has done this to me is recounting the story to you. I’m really goanna miss you but what is written in fate; no one can change it. Even your prayers won’t help me but I’m now bedridden. My parents didn’t call Doctors as they know even he/she couldn’t save me from passing away; they are sitting beside me, tears leaking in their eyes and I’m so much down that I couldn’t wipe them off. My mom went off powerless to see me suffering and it all happened as we shifted to this new house.

 

Me, my mom, My Dad were a happy family before this happened. But due to persecution and hounding from the Landlord (He is Mr. M) of the previous house we made a move to a house in the street next to it, a day back. We expected the proprietor (He is Mr. R) of the new house will be kind-hearted and congenial. Yes, he was from the way he looked and talked. But never estimate a person from his honey-coated speeches and saint-like looks. I realized this too late. I asked my parent not to shift house because I loved to be in the aforementioned house. It was where I born, grew up, jumped, danced, pissed and done all kinda nonsense that a kid can do (You a kid??). I even pleaded my parents to withstand the harrying of M but they felt it would be hard-hitting to stay alive if we go on with the harassment of M. So as a caring and lovable child (again a child???) my parents’ wellbeing went into my head first and then comes the anecdote of moving to the new house owned by R.

 

Right from day three (Because first two days are normal) nothing was going good between me and M. LOTTA, his son looked delightful but he never liked me. He always bullied me, shouts at me whenever I enter into his room, chases me hard down everywhere with a club or notebook to bang me hard. I said to my mom about LOTTA’s coldhearted to me but rather scolding him, she beat me warning “NEVER DO YOU ENTER HIS ROOM AGAIN! WE ARE NOT THE OWNERS! HE IS AND HE HAS EVERY RIGHT TO KNOCK US! THIS IS THE BEST HOUSE WE COULD EVER GET AND DON’T YOU AGAIN REPEAT THIS!” So from that day I never crossed boundaries. I went on to play with other friends and took an oath to myself not to get caught by LOTTA again. LOTTA’s parent thinks he is silent, good natured, and devoid of all kinda pranks and that’s what made LOTTA to think he is a HOT PROPERTY. He has a girl-friend staying opposite house and his foremost job everyday is to come to balcony (You won’t call it as a balcony if you look at it- may be little than a veranda) and sight-seeing the girl (She is Ms. V). Man! Mark my words! A guy in his dead bed won’t lie (but he do lie- lying) and I say, she is damn charming and bubbly like Genelia of JTYJN (can get more details of it from previous posts) and it is where the short-running bad blood between me and LOTTA reached at its height (Taller than Mt.Everest).

 

 I started developing a find-her-irresistible attitude towards V and LOTTA had noticed my robust looks on her.  I followed V many times without her awareness and my target was her Chubby Cheeks but I couldn’t shun LOTTA noticing me with KILLER looks. Once, when I tried to kiss her at cheeks, LOTTA who was watchful 24*365 like RADAR, 100000000000 times better than Indian Coastal Defense and Internal Security System threw a book at me and I escaped miraculously unscathed. But since V didn’t notice me, a brawl broke between them with V stating LOTTA threw it on purpose. His eyes red on anger, saw me standing beside her with guiltless looks but hands tied as he don’t want his heroics action to get mistimed again. I could judge from his looks that the next time I’m being caught, there begins closing stages of my life and it had happened today.

 

LOTTA had told his dad about my behaviors and how much nuisance I’ve caused him. Well. He is very good in weaving stories and trapped his dad into KILL-BILL i.e. mindset of slaughtering me. My dad overheard their conversation that they got a liquid potion, stuffing at my nose make me feel OUT and then they can b me brutally. I was warned by dad not to step out of my room and I remained immobile for two days, cancelling out all my schedules with friends. LOTTA and R were anticipating my arrival in other words to write my death sentence. But today I couldn’t control my resistance to see the outside world, green and moist, unsullied from rain that coaxed me to gasp some fresh air. I misconceived that he cannot sketch me and for the first and last time my plan boomeranged.

 

I sneaked into LOTTA’s room searching for some evidences of his culprit works oblivious he’d come into the room. Happy like a ravenous lion that caught his prey, he walked slowly behind me, eyes widened (Ergg... I’d not seen it... It’s LOTTA’s tale from now on) and shouted “YOU BLOOD SUCKER! ATLAST YOU ARE CAUGHT!!” I stood freeze there few seconds, probably taken aback by his comments on me as a Blood sucker. Am I a “blood sucker?”

                                I’m not a TERRORIST to suck the blood of innocents

I’m not a POLITICIAN to suck the blood of people who voted him expecting change and security but he has only “STAY CALM! EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE” kinda words to offer.

I’m not a DEBAUCH MAN who cannot control his sexual crusades and suck the blood of young and innocent children victimizing them for their needs

and if you call me a BLOOD SUCKER I do it for breathing and living and I’m goanna show you how wild I’m for provoking me. With these thoughts fuelling my antagonism and with all ways to flee are completely blocked, I jumped at him biting his arm. But then, he went belligerent by it and the loud mouthed LOTTA gave a punch, hit or say whatever noun describes “DEATHBLOW” and I fell in the bed lying beside- a perfect timing for anyone who want to set out for deathbed. Since I’ve watched lots of Bollywood films, like the Hero or hero’s friend, a good guy who is shot down by Villain saves up all his life and last breathe though the blood runs miles from his body, to recount the story of how it happened, I’ve banked my last breathe to narrate my story.

 

Though LOTTA is tough and hardhearted, he gave me a last wish before I die and I asked him to give an account of my saga (Crap!! Don’t ever spoil the name of Saga) to fellow bloggers. I could see the doors of heaven (You should go to Hell) opening and my grand grand parent singing Lullaby, welcoming my arrival. My eyes are diffusing... My death is nothing when compared with the Heroes, note the real heroes, the Brave hearts who died while rescuing common from the terrorists, who were always aware that the uniform came with great responsibility. I’m happy to see the raging fires and fierce gun battles came to an end before I die, and I go to heaven to salute our Fallen Warriors. I may be tiny, humorous, chirpy but when comes to Patriotism, my size doesn’t matter as my heart and love for my country is always gigantic. ‘BHARAT MATA KI JAI’ will be the last words from my mouth- the tiny mouth, the so-called Blood Sucking mouth, I the Mosquito will now Rest In Peace!  

 

PS: LOTTA is none other than me, who killed this patriotic mosquito. I’m sorry for it!! :( I thought of writing this post as usual humorous and when I’m half way through it, Chennai, where I reside is hit by Cyclone and heavy rains and there is no power in our area for past three days. So I’m fully unaware of what happened in Mumbai as all means of communication with outside world is suspended. I pray for peace and mourn victims of terror in Mumbai and that’s why I changed the latter half of the post for Martyrs. Forgive me, if it turned to be Horrible.