The last hour...

I am from a middle class family. Very middle class.
In the sense that owning a car is a big dream.
But I can see at the end to the dark tunnel of hope,
the light which I hoped would change my desires to actions.

Truth unfolds what lies in store, on instructions from time.
For time alone knows what happened when, and what goes beyond.

Time gifted me the job I wanted with an American MNC,
and thats when I felt closer to my dreams,
of enjoying the worldly pleasures I deserve.

Work was normal at first. I never noticed the nuances of
foreign MNC's leaving the job for Indians to do.
It is an irony that my MNC, has most number of employees in India,
than all the world centres put together.
I vaguely remember proudly boasting to
a couple of friends. Or maybe it was three, it was long back.

"No, this is not outsourcing", I defended. "They notice raw talent
in India. Lets appreciate their efforts for knowing what our Indian
companies failed to acknowledge".

I guess it was I who failed to notice their intentions, until I
got a call from my manager in US last week. I was happy giving him
my regular updates of my work I did. By character, he is known
to little appreciate the efforts of others, I suspect it is out of
fear that complacency would creep in.

Also by character, he is known to push people to their maximum
possible level, physically and emotionally. This was my first such
personal experience.

"Only four modules completed in one week. This is critically emergency
situation. Let me see..."

He made me feel like an underproductive hog.
I was pretty sure it wasnt all that emergency. Afterall, last week
was a busy one, with personal jobs taking over my professional time.
It was this same manager who talked hours on prioritizing jobs.
He was shocked when I implemented it.
How should I know it was only "theoritically" speaking?

He ranted on his multi-viewed advices on how to present myself to the customer
in the best manner. Another point I noticed in this company is they were
happy giving "free" advices more than deserving salary. I accepted
his comments. I felt I was being obsequious. For the very few times I was,
I remember when I am obsequious.

This week I promised to do much better, though physically I was weaker.
He set unrealistic targets of three modules a day, to be strictly followed.
But I had no targets, except to perform better.
This is when I got a reminiscence of my dream.

I am from a middle class family. Very middle class. But that does
not mean my dignity is also middle class, or for rest of my Indian friends.
The pervasive notion on dogs by their owners, is that dogs should always
wag their tails irrespective of how bad the owner treats it. Beat it, scold it,
starve it, and still expect it to wag its tail.

But hope he knew I wasn't one. Or perhaps he didn't.
I was optimistic he didn't think so.
But I had this question lurking inside me, why don't the people
in US or UK office work atleast half as hard.

Maybe because they are masters. They thought they were masters.
They were not.

This week I had infact done three modules a day.
That was because I was extremely lucky, so was he to find me.

He called again on the last day of the week, and asked about
my performance. He was not happy with nine modules that week.
He wanted more, more, more.

I feel it is always easy to give commands, and tell how we should go about
working. Like in cricket, a bunch of jokers rant for hours as to how a player
must have handled the ball, or how another player should be removed from the team.
Respectable fools, you should be in the middle to realise the game.
In my case, maybe he thinks I am a Robot, who can just repeats the monotonous work
irrespective of whether it is day or night. Maybe he thought I was a cheap
slave gifted to him.

Mahatma, lived by setting an example and then requested people
to follow him. My manager wanted me to do things he probably didn't try.
Afterall he is not Mahatma, he is just another ambitious manager, who has
his own problems and deadlines. But even I have my own problems.
There was a sense of emotional pressure, as feelings tried to vent out of me.

I asked my friend for a minute with him. He said he was busy,
rightly so his manager was on phone.
Maybe he was falling into the same trap I was in. I wanted to warn him.
He was smiling on phone.
I minced my words and wished him luck. I never wanted to burden him with my problems, or intimidate him on the job, for he may have different
perspective on his work. The perspectives may be blatantly contrasting
like the mid-day sun shine above our heads, when it is midnight in the US.

I wanted to scream at the top of my voice, but I imprisoned my emotions.
I was tight lipped, but my eyes gave way to the persistant tears.
It must have pained for it, as it did for me. What is this
life with all work, rewarded with more work.
I haven't even seen the day...for many days.

I phoned the number I easily remember as my date of birth.
"Hello, heLLo, hellOO, hello...", I waited for her to hang the phone.
My mother blessed me with four different tones.

I moved into the pantry, and felt cozy in the company of the vending machine.
I thought of blurting out my feelings to it, well then, it was also a servant
in place. People just demand what flavours they want, and it is expected
to perform. I had seen people swearing on it, lastly a week ago. I can
emphatize with it now, "I feel it", I cried.

I pressed a button at random, and waited for it to complete the call. "I
am your friend, I dont want to order you". My cup was filled with elachi tea,
I inferred that I pressed it. I was in no mood to drink it though.

I moved to the open verandah space, and peeped out of the window, I could see
a couple quarreling on the road, the crowd was least bothered. Everyone
has his own set of problems, for problems define life. They say it makes up a
man and builds his character.

I disagee with it. If you want a reason, I am a coward.
I found out today. Maybe I use this as a tool to show my incompetence.
But I am a coward, and I dont want to take it anymore.

I am from a middle class family. But the tunnel I saw is suddenly
closed. I inturn closed my eyes to the outside world, and breathed in
deeply. I remembered the song by pink floyd:

"Goodbye cruel world, I am leaving you today,
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye.
Goodbye all you people, there's nothing you could say,
to make me change my mind, Goodbye!"

I turned back to check the lobby. A tired security, probable bored with work,
yawned and had my back against me. "Hey security, I am bored to death. I lead."
I was proud that I am controlling my life at last, er. my death. My sense
of humour never lost me. I am going to murder it now.

I am a coward, so I needed inspiration even to do the simplest things then
possible; to jump out of the window. I raised my hands, eyes still
closed, looping the lyrics of the song in my mind.

It felt good. I thanked God for the life I had, and requested for a
place by his feet. Standing still with my eyes closed for a minute,
my mind went blank.

In an instinct I darted out of the window, five floors felt too long.
The air against my face was a new experience, and my stomach was really tickling.
I could have laughed easily with that sensation, but I didn't. I thought
how the guys doing that trick, with the rope tied to their legs would feel,
can't get it's name now. What was it...

I knew I reached the ground, but surprisingly there was no pain. I landed
chest first and I felt the cement floor trying to pierce my chest. But
no pain. I imagined that I must be lying crippled. I feared moving even a bit,
because I feared pain.

It sure is strange to see the vehicles from underneath. I can hear the sound of guard screaming for help. But I couldnt hear anything after that. I must have
lost my hearing capacity, and who knows I might also be muted.
I didnt try to talk or scream till now.
If I had to talk I would have done it on my manager's face.
My ego tells me not to let out a shrill. I decided to obey it,
afterall it was with me all my life, and I wanted to honour its wish.

I can see clouded images with my right eye, but all in black and white,
that too for a circle of about 6cm diameter.
I feared my left eye was out of place.
The first thing I saw was my right foot almost upto my face.
Maybe I denied my body the pleasures of yoga, and it is fulfilling itself
in the final possible stages. I last saw a stream of water flowing. I could not
dstinguish its colour. I assumed it was blood.

There was a sudden excrutiating pain in my hip, like a thousand thorns
pricking through my groin. But the pain soon became comfortable.
May be my brain cells were failing to recognise the pain. My circumference of vision became smaller, and smaller until it was an unrecognisable dot.
I knew I was near the end. I was happy about it.

I hoped I posed the best picture for the photos, and not naked anywhere.
I am a man of self-dignity, and wanted to die the same way.

The last thing I got right was the word "bungee jumping".
I was happy I figured it out.
My mind was with me all the time. I am a widow now, since it failed, after
helping with the last puzzle. What show of faith.
But I am not a widow for long, my soul soon followed, into the righteous
path, this transition to eternal life, I hoped will be better than
my life at earth.

I am from a middle class family, and my life ends now, taking with it
my dreams. The light I saw, was that of solution; and the solution was
to end my life.

Again time will only tell if it is the right move. I hope my eternal dreams
gets fulfilled. But one problem if I am troubled there...

I cannot die again.

the end.