Direct Death Bed Se....

Today I just generally sat imagining me on my death bed...

I have just turned 50 and on the night of the grand half century celebrations, I fainted-mind you, not swooned for I am sure even at 50, I would still be waiting for a Mills & Boons kinda guy to walk into my whatever-is-remaining life and sweep me off my feet*sigh!* Hey bhagwan, aakhri ichcha he samajh ke poore kar dena?

Near and dear or rather the envious ones thought it could be because of an overdose of Vodka. They would gloat that I’ve finally succumbed to the urges of excesses. One vodka is generally enough to get me tipsy. They must have made me drink five-one for each decade and there I collapsed unable to see the morning glory of a hangover in the cosy confines of the bedroom I have lived in for 28 years since my shaadi. I am assuming we’d still be in the same house for my beloved is a mamma’s boy and by that time he would have converted me into HIS mamma’s girl too. Whoooooooooa, now that I am anyways dying-hey you up there, could I die before THAAAAT? Phuleeeeeeeeeeeze? Consider that as my second last ‘aakhri ichcha’ ab at least gimme a list of last wishes. I am dying ain’t I? That should be reason enough to let me deserve it!

So I wake up in the morning sometime and look at the bleak white walls of the hospital and finally get to ask the dialogue I have always desperately wanted to ask: “Mein kahan hoon?” Thank god I did not die without asking this or else aatma-ke-shaanti crap kaise hota and I would have to return back as a bhatakti spirit asking mortals ‘mein kahan hoon’ and hear in reply from them, “Exactly, we can’t see you either-kahan se kaun bol raha hain?” and the bugging hide and seek that would follow, would make me wish I were dead or rather dead again or whatever!

Anyways, drowsy and with no clue of last night I look around at the little crowd that has gathered outside that room...

I assume we are in a five star hotel room Note to Dear beloved-at least at fifty and on my death bed, please take me to one of those ‘burn-your-pockets-here’ hospitals, the kinds Anna went to-ab us time paisa bacha ke bhi kya fayda, upar to mere se he milna padega na!

So my dearly beloved holds my hand and gazes at me with the lost look that was perpetually on veteran actor A.K. Hangal’s face and I assume the worst- 

•  Maybe the maid has left us...
•  Maybe I had a car accident on the way and they’ve cut my legs...
•  Maybe last night’s party went over budget and now they’ve kept us in the hotel suite so that upon getting up we could do the dishes... 
• Maybe I have lost my memory and he’s telling me about it and I have to now pretend that I have not.

And he breaks into a sob...

I offer the napkin kept by my side and he does a good blowing job of it. Some habits die hard, old age mein bhi blowing!!!!!!! I read somewhere that sneezing opens up the lungs-at the rate my beloved sneezes, that is @ about 20 blood curdling sneezes a day, his lungs would have expanded enough to accommodate Earth, Mars and half of Jupiter.

And he says,

“Baby, please be strong...” ya right, as if that’s not what I have done for 50 years of my blessed life. I could give Arnold Swarzeneggar or whatever way that is spelt, his run for money in this game

“The doctors did some tests on you...” whoa, he offered me as a guinea pig? I knew it-those damn life insurance policies in my name would tempt him enough some day to put me up as bait.

“...And there’s bad news. You have lukatmerokfromasia!”

I take in my saliva...

“You mean to say I have the ‘look-at-me-I-rock-from-Asia’ attitude?”

“No baby, it is a new disease, that blah, blah, blah you don’t want the gory details of it now, do you? Let 2027 come and they would have come up with a definition, till then spare me dude. Helloooooooo-I am dying, that’s the least you can do?

“You just have 4-5 days more to live....”

And buwahaaaaaaaaaaa-nopes, that’s not another disease or a big laugh-that’s my beloved howling at the top of his expanded lungs at the thought of perhaps-“Who would pack my suitcases now when I go travelling? Who would put my clothes in the wardrobe or my food on my plate? Who would cut my eyebrow hair when they grow too long?  Who would pretend to be asleep if I come too close almost every night?” And the bawls would make the hospital staff wonder, if not just me but the entire women-kind has been doomed to disappear in 5 days and hence the mourning!

I look at the walls-blank faced oh come on, how would I know how else or best to react in this situation? Pehle kabhi kisse ne bola he nahi ke mere pass sirf 5 din hain jeene ko...first time mar rahe hoon na!

I then sit and remember how some twenty years ago I had bragged on a funny blog that I had created, about how I would like to get tapko-ed or parlok sidharo-ed at the age of 50. Damn your accounts Bhagwan ji, tabhi kaan laga ke sun na tha ke mein kya maang rahi hoon?

• Where were you when I asked you to bring me Hrithik Roshan?

•   Where were you when I asked you to make me 36-24-36 or make it   40-22-34 since we are getting it custom made anyways?

• Where were you when I asked you to let me help a passer-by on the road from getting crushed under a truck and he happening to be a millionaire, would sign up his millions in my name and die the next day?

• Where? Where? Where?

Some sense of timing you have! Hmphf, aapse to upar aake nipat te hoon!

Phew! So I am finally on my death bed now. After taking three pages in reaching here from the title that you read above, I better make the destination as worthwhile as your journey mere naazuk kandhon pe umeedon ka itna bojh, still I don’t f@#$ing lose any weight-there is no justice in this world, I tell you!

Let me see now-only 5 days to live!!!!!!

I need these many days just to write farewell speeches to my friends, family, students, associates and chance encounters, my crushes and could be crushes, my relations and those who pretended to be ones or I pretended to be theirs. Not to forget the doodhwaala and the maali bhaiyya, the watchman oh, how I miss having a pet now-my speech would have sounded so much more complete. And also our social Club desk ka hottie boy who always asked my beloved, “Aaj bhabhi ji nahi aayen?” whenever I would not come. And also suggestively, “Aaj aap bhaiyya ko chodh aaten phir!” whenever next I would come with him! (‘chodh’ matlab leave okay) And I also always wanted to write woh Nehru-types ‘Letters to my daughter’ giving her my pearls of wisdom garnered through experience can’t depend on my blog to do so now, can I?

After much calculation, not of what to do but of how many hours are left, I put up a status on my Face book...

“Gone in 120 hours, milna hain to abhi mil lo, waise agar 20 years of my face book life mein yeh shubh kaam nahi kiya, to aapka jeena vyarth hain. You deserve to die before me!”

I send a mass phone text message-“Yeh sewa 5 din baad se uplabdh nahi hoge kyonki iska prayog karne waale bhagwan ko pyaare ho rahe hain-implying you had your chance and lost it dodo Is liye aayen aur apna shouk prakat karen” -abe shauk nahi-shouk ya shock bhi chalega...haye, shauk ke umar to guzar gaye hoge na ab tak!

I now look forward to a horde of secret admirers queuing up outside the room to get a glimpse of me or tell me before I die that they loved me as they couldn’t confess to it all their lives ya right, you have as bad a sense of timing as bhagwan ji. Kya bhagwan, apne prototypes he mere ass pass rakhne the? *Double hmphf!*

I imagine all my thousands of students there whom I have served-not just with my teaching skills but also by providing an ideal location for a date away from the zaalim duniya. They’ll come up to tell me how I changed their lives ya rite, and also helped you brought new ones into the world too through the relationships you forged under the tables of my classroom! I conjure up a scene where there is a stampede of sorts outside the hospital premises and such uproar created that the media shutterbugs soon drop in to find out what’s passing!

And to my beloved and family members...

I gave you 50 years of my life didn’t I? Please give me the last 5 days of it for myself- To flirt till my little heart bursts, literally. You didn’t give me the chance to pursue my hobby during my lifetime. Now’s the right time to do pashchaatap for it aakhir aap sab ko bhi to upar he aana hain. Let me die a happy woman and I’ll make sure I keep good things/breeds waiting up for you when you drop in up finally!

I really like what some wise guy has said, “If you would not like to be forgotten as soon as you are dead-either write things worth reading or do things worth written about”. I have tried the former and failed, now all my money in the last 5 days would be on the latter-just DO it!

Though my concepts of “do”ing things is a little lop sided like I am:

Old concept: Do or die

New concept: Do before you die

Latest concept: Don’t die until you do

My basic concept: What to f@#$ing do?

Okay, let’s try-may be to eat all the food I always wanted to eat, without bothering about weight gain as if I ever bothered about it anyways, to hand out my khoon paseene ke kamaye hue jewellery to those who’ve been nice to me in case you haven’t, there are still 5 days to make up and technically some 17 years actually from 2011, to give a piece of my mind to all those who were mean to me let them suffer with my mind pieces for the rest of their blessed lives as I have suffered with it in mine.

And then my beloved finally asks me...

“Baby, is there something you want?”

“Yes darling, could you get me my beautician for a last facial. I must look good in white when you take me.”

“But you always look good in anything. I am sure you’d be the prettiest dead woman ever!”

“Thanks, but since it’s my last chance, why take chances honey? I must get a new hairstyle also-one that would look good while lying down.”

“I would miss you sooooooooooo much”

“Awwww....I will too. But don’t worry, I’d drop in every now and then to say “Whooo hooo, look who’s back!” especially when you’d be doing other women.”

“Baby, haven’t you heard, you are supposed to RIP-matlab Rest in Peace and not RIP apart your beloved’s chances of happiness finally!”

Uffffffff, can’t even say here, “Yeh sun ne se pehle mein mar kyon nahi gaye” coz that’s already in the cards.

So there, now I wait for Lady Death or make it Dude Doom to come and embrace me. My signing off note:

“Ho aise maut ke yaad rakhe yeh zamana,

Duniya waalon, mere yaad mein aanson na bahana,

Jab zyaada yaad aaye to upar he chale aana.

Mil kar karenge gaana bajaana, hasna hasaane, shor machana!”