Suicide Note

A Suicide Note was all he could write. He had big dreams which were, as if, left unanswered in between the lines of his note. He had lots to say, lots to explain but hadn’t enough time. His surrounding seemed bleak. His life seemed bleached. All he could write in his note was “It wasn’t easy for me”. Just a single line! How much could that explain?

Police vans surrounded the body early morning. His mother couldn’t believe her son’s death. He looked so happy the night before. He smiled and asked, “Amma, how many days can you live without me?”. Little did his mother know that her innocent child meant things so differently. She had always looked upon him as a child- joking, smiling, laughing. Nobody did ever notice his smile had a touch of smirk, his eyes had a signature of grief.

His childhood friend, Rishita, had arrived on the spot. They have been in a relationship for two years. Though they broke up a few months ago, Rishita’s mind flashed all over those sweet little memories they had gathered together as she looked upon his calm body. Silently sleeping, as if would wake up into life at any moment. She quickly remembered his last text, “Won’t we come back into each other again?”, dated 21st January, and that’s quite some months ago. She never bothered to reply cause it was three days after they broke. It was easy for her to forget him then but it won’t be now, she thought.

Lots of people surrounded near or around their house. Some neighbors were heard grieving of his sudden expiry. These were also the people who never cared to speak good about him till a few hours ago were found to be the most worried. As the day broke, sunlight slowly covered his body. And in that glow, his shining dead face and clotted blood seemed more unusual.

Amidst all the chaos and silence, a few local news reporters arrived to ask a few important questions regarding how his mom has been feeling after her child’s suicide, did she not get a hint beforehand and if she did why did she let her child die. Seeing it wasn’t possible for the victim’s mother to answer their stupid “important questions”, they turned their attention to some of the neighbors and passersby. A few people were heard diligently showcasing their concern on the fact that how could a 20 year old boy commit suicide? What had he seen of life?

After a few hours, the body was taken away, police vans gradually subsided, the neighbors resorted back to their work, Rishita went back home. She had her tuition classes to attend. A few local channels discussed on the matter for a day. A few local newspapers printed it in a corner of their big pages. Within a month nobody remembered him. Everything was gone, he , his memories, his life, had been washed down into the ocean of time.

But his note, still lies on his table where he sat that night, writing the single line with quivering hands. “It wasn’t easy for me”. How much could that explain? Nobody cared to know what wasn’t easy for him after his death, just as they did not, even when he was alive….

Here are some suicide helpline numbers…ask for help whenever you need. Try talking to people. Speak out! Nothing’s more precious than life

Mumbai: I Call – 022-25521111 (Monday to Saturday, 8 am to 10 pm)
Telangana: (040-66202000) – 9AM – 11 PM
Tamil Nadu: 044-24640059 – 24 X 7
Aasra: 91-9820466726 (24X7)