And Hence This Chapter Is Closed

-Jashmita Tanwar

Just now, someone inquired about my self-death obsessions. And I, the lover of death, offered this as my response.

Tomorrow I'll be returning home in my dream car, a glossy black Lamborghini Gallardo, along with my convocation, my mom's favorite pineapple cake, a black cloak, and my graduation cap on the shotgun seat. My dad would be waiting to return from his national deployments entirely to fill me in his arms with pride, and I would have a big smile on my face and sparkling eyes, eager to watch my mom's reaction when she sees me in my academic gown. My mom will be planning to surprise me with my favorite carrot pudding, and my siblings can't wait to eat it. Dadu will be waiting outside the front door of the home, ticking down the minutes till I get there. And two of my closest companions will be patiently awaiting a scheduled conference call to hear about my success. My arrival will be eagerly anticipated by everyone at home, who will be ecstatic.

I have plans to stop at my brother's café before I go home to say thank you to him and the love of my life—the ones who have seen me develop from an average individual into an extraordinary person. I would be consistently traveling inside the speed limit, 150 meters from the café, when I would catch a glimpse of my brother and my better half, both of whom were watching me approach them. I'll gesture at them from about 20 meters away, but as soon as I put my hand out the window, a big, furious truck explodes into me. 

I am able to envision myself laying on the sidewalk with the car I was driving five meters away, on flames. My beloved and my brother rush to me. While Bhai was yelling for help and to call an ambulance, he held my head on his lap and made every effort to keep my eyes open. Blood covered my entire body. My moon white outfit had now turned completely red, my mother's favorite cake had morphed into blood, and the significance of my convocation had vanished. Nobody wanted that black graduation gown anymore. waiting for my call won't ever again receive a call from that particular number. People were running around me, possibly to call for assistance and to get away from that blazing car. I could barely make out the movement of their lips due to my unconsciousness' clouded vision, numb ears, and feeling completely oblivious to what had just occurred.

I saw my Bhai caressing my hair and placing his hand on my forehead. My cheeks were caressed by the one with whom I had grand plans for the future. They were acting bravely while also fighting back tears in their eyes.

I realized at this time that I would never be able to see my parents again, argue with my brothers inanely again, and that Dadu's wait would never be over. Sadly, the two people who have watched me develop are now experiencing my demise. I attempted to clasp their hands with my quivering palms, smiled charmingly, and then ultimately closed my eyes while crying, but not out of sorrow. 

And now that this chapter of life has come to a close, no one has seen the tears shed while penning such a triumphant chapter, the shrill screams of pain while holding the pen, or the tears on the pages.

Everyone will remember me for my warrior spirit and self-assured face. But because I've always been a fighter and will die as a fighter, I'd be happy in my final moments. And now that the fighter has found peace, she is free from having to engage in any more physical altercations, experience any more emotional crashes, or have any more secret anxiety and panic attacks.

I'll wave the world "goodbye" without holding any grudges.