
Blog by Terveen
If I wasn’t poor, I would’ve paid a pretty price to have Mithoo killed.
The drunkard swine has ruined his life and almost most of mine.
It’s not so much his drinking. His money is his own to waste.
It’s the daily drama that follows.
We live like rats packed into drainpipes, one atop another, not breathing, but inhaling desperation.
Those pouches of liquor, I smell them on his breath and in the stale air around me.
He’s ready to put us to shame again.
Our room, no bigger than a shoebox, rests like an ill-fitting block at the top.
Click-click. He fiddles with the radio. He forgets every night that its broken.
His plate lies untouched. The watery soup and handful of rice have parted ways.
Mithoo throws his shirt at me. His bones poke out of his chest.
I won’t stop him. He’s never listened before.
He’s out in the common balcony yelling, ‘Today is the perfect day to die!’
I hear the groans and curses hurtling towards him.
Go to Hell!
Just die and let us sleep!
Why don’t I push you!
But Mithoo can’t hear them. When he’s drunk, he’s also deaf.
He climbs barefoot on to the rickety railing. One hand on his head, the other holding the crumbling crossbeam.
Here come the tears and hysterical laughs. A new story every time. Unfulfilled love, cheating friend, rising prices, falling wages.
The dogs in the street bark along. They sense he’s one of their own.
I fan myself with his shirt. It feels light in my hands, freed from his madness.
There’s a deafening crash. Then silence.
The railing is gone. So is Mithoo. I stuff his shirt in my mouth to stop myself from screaming.
Who would’ve known poverty was the price to kill him…
Why didn’t the other person stopped him? Were they too fed up with him? Very intriguing!
Me gustaLe gusta a 3 personas
It seems like the other person was fed up and also so used to this everyday drama that they didn’t think much of it. Ironically, Mithoo’s wish came true. It was the ‘perfect day to die’.
Thank you so much. 🙂
Me gustaLe gusta a 2 personas
That explains it. You’re welcome. 🙂
Me gustaLe gusta a 2 personas
terrific characterisation; good pacing —
Me gustaLe gusta a 2 personas
Thank you so much, John. 🙂
Me gustaLe gusta a 1 persona
Quite an interesting story, Terveen! Congratulations on it being published here! Stay blessed and have a lovely day my dear! 🌹🙏
Me gustaLe gusta a 1 persona
Thank you so much, Diana!
Appreciate your kind words and wishes. 🙂
Me gustaLe gusta a 1 persona
Woah. That shook me in the end! You are very good with twists Terveen 🙂
Me gustaLe gusta a 2 personas
Thank you so much, Vignesh. I guess desperation and suffering are twisted situations themselves.
Me gustaLe gusta a 1 persona
I guess so too. You are welcome 🙂
Me gustaLe gusta a 2 personas
Mmmm. This is a powerful poem about the many issues that come up for people when they are navigating trauma. And, when embedded in a context with people struggling with similar issues, help can be hard to find. Hmmm. Still reflecting on this one, Terveen. Wonderfully written, my friend. 😊
Me gustaLe gusta a 2 personas
Thank you so much, Jeff. 🙂
Difficulties can either make us strong or leave us in the lurch. Sometimes, there’s no one to turn to. And dwelling in perpetual hopelessness can wreck a person’s rationality. Yes, every individual is different. Some may accept their circumstances while some may live in perpetual lament. And this story does highlight that divide.
Me gustaLe gusta a 2 personas
You’re most welcome, Terveen. Always. Indeed, it does. 😊
Me gustaLe gusta a 2 personas