The Last Resort

The Last Resort

I am the walls of one of the rooms, located in the N block of a certain colony named Preet Vihar, in the capital city of Delhi. The room belonged to Utkarsh. I had seen him grow before my eyes, right from his childhood, and I was very fond of him. Although the bonding between me and Utkarsh was one sided, yet I felt the relationship to be complete. I felt I knew him inside out. Utkarsh was an average boy who was slow in understanding and grasping things. He had the habit of stammering too. All these qualities naturally made him qualified enough to become the centre of mockery in school, among friends and also among family. But, I always felt his stammers to be innocent and cute.

At the age of 10, when he realized for the first time that he had to survive with his peculiarity of stammering for the rest of his life, he felt sad. He cried for hours and I was the sole witness of his tears. It pained me and had I the power of words with me, I would have conveyed to the little fellow that, “There is no need to get so much depressed. There are a lot many people who are completely deprived of the power of speech.”

He had a brother, Saptarsh who was just a year younger to him whom he loved very much. He grew up to be far more intelligent than him. Needless to mention, their parents started the comparison process and this caused within Utkarsh, occasional hatred for Saptarsh. Sometimes, I felt like shouting aloud, “Why do you have to compare between the two kids?” As he grew up, he stopped reacting to any extra shower of affection; any extra out pour of pampers to his brother. He had almost reconciled to his faith and felt best to keep quite.

Utkarsh was constantly made to realize that he was inferior, in all respects, but the truth, I felt, was different. He was far more understanding and affectionate than the other members of the family. Utkarsh grew up with all these negativity around, and this tremendously affected his self-confidence. Most of the times, he shed tears in solitude because, had his family known about his tears, he would be branded permanently as not only a failure, but also a coward and a timid because boys are not supposed to shed tears however much difficult the circumstances may be. “Are you a girl?” is often questioned to any boy who cries openly. After his cries, having no one to console him, he would self-boost himself. I felt like hugging him with motherly affection but I had my own limitations of being an inanimate. He had the strong feeling of hope within him that kept comforting him. I have often heard him saying to himself, ‘one day everything will definitely change’. I also believed his optimism.

Utkarsh had planted a small money plant and a marigold plant in the balcony attached to his room. He would talk to them for hours and they would never mind his stammers. I was always silent over-hearer of the one-sided conversation. Utkarsh spent his days mainly in his own world and I felt contended. The more the time he spent with his family, the more depressed and frustrated he got.

When Utkarsh was in college, he developed an attraction for a beautiful girl named Payal in his college. Those days were the happiest days of Utkarsh and I was overjoyed thinking that finally Utkarsh found his true love. He did manage to somehow express his feelings to her after entire week of practice before me, and the most unexpected thing that happened was that she accepted the proposal. Utkarsh’s joy knew no bounds and he began to forget all the humiliation he faced during his childhood days. His optimism became firmer, but, his days of joys did not last long. The girl rejected his proposal one day all of sudden in front of me.

“W-w why? What h-h-happened? I love you more than anyone else in this earth. What did I do? I will change myself completely for you. Please don’t leave me.” Utkarsh said fighting back his tears although his throat chocked.

Utkarsh almost begged for his share of love. He felt humiliated but he was ready to go any level down to restore Payal in his life. I felt like stopping him from lowering his esteem to an unknown female.

“Please Utkarsh. Be mature. I don’t think we are a good match for each other. Don’t create a mess now,” said Payal as she left him in his solitude once again.

After a few days, while Utkarsh was still struggling to get stabilized, Payal was seen together with Saptarsh roaming about. Utkarsh very easily joined the cords of the string, and could easily reach to the conclusion, which made him feel ‘back to zero’. No one knew what emotional turmoil Utkarsh was facing, because he shared his feelings to none other than the tender creeping plant. In fact, I was also a novice to this instance in his life, till the time I overheard his talks with the plants.  Having known about all these episodes, my curiosity was fueled. I continued to listen minutely every word of his.

After few weeks of self-motivation, Utkarsh decided to focus on studies and then on job. I was happy that he was treading the correct path and I wished in silence for his wishes to be granted. He still had lots of optimism to move ahead in life, and somehow managed for a clerical job in a private firm, which of-course nowhere matched to the standards of Saptarsh, who was appointed at the director level post with thrice as much as salary to Utkarsh. The family celebrated the job of Saptarsh and Utkarsh was embarrassed again.

Several years passed. Both the brothers were married. Utkarsh was married to a girl who was a play school teacher. She brought with her minimum amount of dowry as compared to the wife of Saptarsh, who was none other than Payal, and who brought not only plenty of gold jewelries but also car worth 10 lakhs. Utkarsh protested as much as his docile nature could allow him, not to keep the marriage function on the same day for both the brothers, but as always his words were the last to be noticed. The family decided against what was proposed by Utkarsh. As expected, all the attention was focused on the younger brother and Utkarsh was left standing like a fool. Right from his childhood, the incapability to take any decision had been so deeply rooted within him, that he himself could not get rid of it. He never persuaded or protested. Utkarsh let go the entire event just like all other episodes from his childhood.

Slowly, his incapability to take decisions was revealed to his wife and she also started treating him with contempt. By this time, Utkarsh had been immune to all the humiliation, but there was still some ray of hope which forced him to believe that things will improve. I also loved to believe his hope.

After a year Utkarsh had a boy. He was overjoyed. He promised to himself to provide him all the things which he had been deprived of, the most important being self-respect. The boy grew up to be a smart kid and was adored by all the members of the family. This made Utkarsh happy and he felt that through the boy, he could regain his lost prestige. Slowly, the boy grew up and he too developed negativity for his father. He too started feeling his father to be inferior to all others.

One day he came and said to his mother, “Maa, can we please ask papa to go out somewhere when my friends come to our house. I don’t want to be mocked at in front of friends?”

I heard all these and felt extremely sad for Utkarsh. Only good thing, I felt, that happened was that, the conversation was not heard by Utkarsh. But, soon the door of the room opened and Utkarsh entered, with eyes lowered and face reddened. I could sense his eyes to be filled with the tears. Without speaking a word, he went to the bathroom and opened the showers and the taps. I could not see him, but almost knew what he was doing inside.

This time he was shattered. The entire life he had been exposed to the mockery of all and now, he was causing his son to become a mockery. He wanted to provide his son the best of everything but unknowingly he was pushing him into the same pit where he had laid since ages. Gradually, he lost interest in his family and job. This created more disrespect and annoyance for him in the eyes of the entire family. Often his parents and his wife would remind him of his duties and responsibilities of a child, of a husband and of a father. The lecture would penetrate from one ear and take a quiet exit from the other one.

Only thing he look interest was to nurture the plants in the balcony. He had even stopped talking with the plants as well.

One morning, when the child and his mom had been to school, Utkarsh locked the doors of his room. I felt he wanted to weep and I somehow felt good about it. The tears would wash away the pain in his heart and he would feel light, but he acted very differently. He took a thick rope and hung himself from the ceiling fan using a stool.

“Hey Stop. What are you doing? “I wanted to say. I tried my best to stop the suicide, but the cement used in building me was too strong to give in. I wondered, “Many of the times tough bridges collapse leading to deaths of several innocent fellows. Why can’t such collapse occur now?” I prayed to God to let the fan fall down; or let the ceiling break, or whatever, and save dear Utkarsh, but alas nothing of that kind happened. I saw him hanging, with his legs dangling in the air. Initially the leg-movement was fast but slowly it withered away. I could do nothing except for receiving some final touches from his alive legs as his body struggled to come in terms with death. He hanged there for hours and I stood dumb witnessing the entire scene in front of my eyes.

When the family came to know about this, they were more surprised than grieved. Everyone again felt that the act was a matter of embarrassment and could be expected only from an irresponsible fellow like him. The investigation about the possible reasons for the suicide started. In the process of doing so, the family opened his door and reached to the balcony.

“Maa, see this. A scissor and a freshly cut marigold flower. Papa had gone mad. He had cut the beautiful flower and placed it in the stems of the money plant,” Utkarsh’s son said running bringing the plant inside the room where the body still hung.

I saw the plant and was aghast. The beautiful flower smiled being separated from its family in the arms of the money plant. I could now witnesses a glow in Utkarsh’s cold face, the same glow which I intended to see all these years, the same glow which the orange marigold flower had in the company of the money plant. I felt glad that he was freed from the everyday turmoil and distress.

One thing which none other than me could witness was his spirit. The spirit escaped from the body and went straight to the plants, which was now close to the hanging dead body. Utkarsh’s spirit tenderly touched the plants and the plants seemed to wrap him in its arms as a gesture of affection.  He then disappeared in the vacuum. He seemed to be regretting and smiling at the fact that throughout his life he had been investing his love for human beings but reciprocation was received only from a speechless object of nature.