Last Sunday, I got a message from my dear friend which made me smile from ear to ear.

It is words like these that I live for, that keeps me going.

I… I no longer think I’m lonely. I am proud to say it.

I prefer being left alone sometimes, but lonely? No. I’m not lonely anymore.

In all these years I lived and all the lives I shared my life with; I earned quite a handful of gold.

I earned a few tears that I hope will be shed when I depart.

I earned a shoulder or two to rest my head upon and silently cry.

I earned a lap where I could place my head and sleep a dreamless sleep like a child.

I… I earned compassion from strangers who held out their hands and pulled me out of the depths, not expecting anything in return but an assurance that I will live on.

I’ll be honest. I’m having trouble writing my thoughts, to the extent that I’m listening to ‘Start a riot‘ on loop for the past half hour just to keep myself in the zone. It’s been months together when I last wrote. I feel like starting to walk after lying in bed for a decade. A twitch at a time, a letter at a time.

I am finding myself again, finding my muse. And I’m alone in my journey, but not for a moment will I have to worry about being lonely. Because I am not. I have souls around me, far away from me, close to me and at the other side of the river – souls who care for me like I once cared for myself.

I am seeing the world around me with a fresh set of eyes. Sure, there are moments when I feel being pulled down in the darkness – when someone does not pick up the call, or when someone disapproves my request to get myself a chocolate – but I understand that I have to get back up and make my way down the untamed road like nothing happened. I will crawl out, dust myself, suit up, and continue walking on the road that leads to my father’s home.

I walk with an occasional slouch, but with my chin held up as I try to tap my feet in sync to the tune playing in my head.

I feel the Sun’s rays on my cheek and forehead. It comforts me. I look in the eyes of the Sun and smile. I bow to Him, smile again and continue walking, not caring whether people around me were watching me with bewilderment.

I am happy to be. I am.

I look back and see my people having my back. I feel extremely vulnerable, they know things about me which could destroy me. They have my kryptonite. Yet, I feel at peace with them. Even if they decide to throw a wrecking ball in my way, I’ll face it with open arms and watch it break my will and hope. Murphy’s Law.

It would be pretentious to even assume that my people will be with me for ever. When the night falls, even your shadow abandons you to become one with the darkness. But I’ll cherish their presence till the time they choose to stay. And I will be forever ready to help anyone in need.
It is true that a person lives for itself, that it’s very body breathes not for anyone else but itself. But I’d be lying if I said I don’t need that occasional warmth exuded by a bear hug.

I’m tired of being looked up to, sometimes. I don’t want to emulate anyone, I am a man of my own making – for a change, let me be without having to fulfil someone’s expectations.

Sometimes; it gets dark, gloomy and cloudy inside. I may not even know it, or if I did, would not know how to express it. I never learnt to say a no or to ask for help.

Please. Gaze into my eyes a little deeper. See for yourself the demons tormenting me. Sit beside me. Breathe with me. Help me realize that I’m not lonely. You need not comfort me with words or deeds. Your presence will do me immense good.

Come, sit beside me atop the ledge, while we gaze at the endless expanse that is the sky. Our eyes taking in the colors of nature, while I occasionally get interrupted by your presence. There may be a fleeting thought striking my head that would nudge me to jump off the ledge into the abyss. But seeing you seated beside me, I would drop the idea because I’d hate to leave you alone.

I exhale, and breathe in the fresh air. I close my eyes. I’m not afraid, I’m not alone. I open my eyes and try to focus on the warm Sun that is slowly rising from the womb of mother nature.

I am.

I am happy to be.

It was raining heavily that night. He was drenched from hair to toe, yet his soul was burning an unfamiliar flame. His pet dog was safe between his arm and chest.

He was atop the grand old bridge that seemed to be hanging by a thread trying to hold on to both the lands who are now drifting apart.

Dilapidated, rusted beyond repairs, it was a reminder of the man’s ambitions that were for naught. He looked below the bridge, it was a dark night indeed. The dark night couldn’t stop the thundering waves crashing on the shore and the bridge’s legs. An occasional lightning pierced the air that covers the naked ground, trying to make sense of the chaos. A distant clap follows the lightning.

He stood atop the railing of the bridge. The wind was howling in despair, desperate for the night to get over. His dog was getting agitated, he could feel the heartbeat of his master rise too. Another lightning struck, and splashed a bright purple hue on the sky and land. He saw the waves crashing, the bottomless ocean, and the end to all his problems.

His dog was getting restless, he was biting his master’s hand but to no avail. His eyes were hypnotized by the sight that lay beneath him. He could feel his insides squirming in anticipation. He was hearing the blood being pumped to his hollow brain. He looked earnestly at the dog.
The dog pleaded with his eyes to be let loose. He patted the dog on his head, and pulled the ground from the dog’s feet that was his arm. The dog let a hopeless howl as his body was getting swallowed by the vast cold darkness beneath. His final howl echoed through the bridge, was carried by the winds around the Earth before smashing on his ears. His spine felt that familiar chill, and his dazed eyes returned to a sharp focus.

A strong gust of wind caught him from behind, unaware. He lost his balance, and fell.

His fingers instinctively grabbed the one thing that separated him from this world. He clasped on a flailing piece of metal floor. He hung there, it felt like an eternity. Rain drops were poking his naked face, stinging him like needles from sky. He lifted his weight out of his grave, and dragged himself out of imminent danger. He was breathing heavily. His tears met with the rain drops and dissolved into oneness. He sat cross-legged, rested his head on his arms. He laughed. He laughed a hysterical laugh. He was trying to make sense of what happened, what he did, what he was about to do, and what he did not do.
His eyes caught a telephone booth. He was drawn towards it, and he stepped inside. He took out his case and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it with his lighter, and he noticed the signboard that was plastered on the side of the telephone booth.

“Live, don’t kill yourself. Seek 24×7 counselling. Dial this number.”

He dialed the number on the phone, and waited for a response. All he could hear was a distant echo, a reminder that the machine had been long defunct. He laughed, and took a long breath with the cigarette between his lips.

He stepped outside and relished the rain falling over him. It’s been a long time indeed.

He noticed a silhouette of a woman frantically trying to get to the railing of the bridge. That woman was tracing his steps. She looked down the bridge, was horrified, and frantically ran to the one comforting sight – the telephone booth.

She ran towards it and tried to ring the suicide prevention helpline, but was aghast when she realized that the line was dead.

He threw the lit cigarette away, and spoke softly in an audible voice, ‘Hi, need any help?’