Zero and a Straight Line

Sometimes I remember that very day.

Mihir is lying on that white bed. Unconscious. Nobody knows if he will ever open his eyes. I was standing beside him. In front of me sitting is Sarah. Sarah Arthur. Holding her silver dangling Jesus. William is standing with his hand on her shoulder, gazing the floor. Megha is sitting on the other side of the bed. Inside is such an uncomfortable silence in the cabin. Megha has no Jesus hanging from her neck. She is holding Mihir’s right hand which is as senseless as Mihir himself. The doctor has left the cabin, saying – Only a miracle can.

I looked at Mihir’s face. The boy is lying in such an impossible peace. His parents are there in Allahabad. Nobody of the whole drama troop could come forward to inform them of the accident of their son on the stage. A counterweight of one of the backgrounds, which was a sack full of sand, fell from a deadly height, fracturing his skull and the thrust breaking his neck joint. As always, he was in the backstage.

Gradually, the photographs of the last four years crept into my vision. Megha, Pritam, Joey, me and Saahil had pushed Mihir many a times – “Go, you moron! Stop pretending ‘just friends’ and ask Sarah out for a date.” Mihir also used to say, “Even I am Also tired of this ‘just friends’ thing. But the problem is – what if she judges me wrong? I mean so many days, laughing, smiling, pranks and jokes, so many pure emotions. If all of a sudden she realizes that I was just pretending to be a friend, I had something else in my mind; all those laughs were a fake, she might start to hate those days. And if that happens, I will be left with nothing.”

While all these were flashing in front of me, I looked at Sarah. Her eyelids were wet. She was forcing her Jesus for "the miracle". It was clear to me as I could see her blue veins getting clearer and clearer under the skin of her shivering fair hand in which she was chocking her God. I didn’t notice when Megha had started to cry with Mihir’s right hand on her forehead. My heart was also heavy but all my tears were dry that day.

William was looking at Mihir with a pale and blank expression. He is the most religious among us. His tears might still be fluid and probably that is the reason why he went out of the cabin, to hide them. Megha turned to the door. Her eyes were as red as blood.

I looked at the cardioscope. Twenty six beats per minute. Then I turned my eyes to Megha. Megha lifted her wet face. She turned to Sarah. Sarah opened her eyes and looked at Mihir. Nineteen. She had started to sweat. Nineteen. Her veins were gradually disappearing beneath her skin. Gradually the silver Jesus came out of her grip. He probably is not getting annoyed by anymore prayer for any miracle. Eleven. Megha moved her eyes towards me and then settled them on Sarah. Nine. That metallic god also remained a witness of those moments. Seven. Sarah is advancing her hands towards the unconscious left hand of Mihir. Five.

Once I had asked Mihir, “What if someday Sarah herself comes up to you and proposes to you?” He stopped me then and there, smiled and said, “It’s gonna be a disaster that day, dude, a disaster.” Three.

Sarah is holding Mihir’s hand. There is no gap between as if Mihir is also trying his best. Two.
Before leaving home, Mihir had a habit of saying – “Am leaving” with a smile on his face. One. Suddenly, Mihir’s hand lost the support of Sarah and fell on the bed with a sound as if something went said. I looked at his face. He hasn’t lost his habit. Zero ....and a straight line.