By Keerthana Venkatesh
Contributing Author for Spark Igniting Minds
Bang! I rolled down the road
With the shrieking- panicking crowd.
To the hospital I was carried
And laid with my head, bruised.
I lay unconscious when my skin was pierced
With the needle which gave me blood.
Home I returned, six days later.
As I watched the chill winter
I felt my throat sore and body afire.
Three days I slept feeling weak
And learnt that life would now retreat
‘cos the blood that saved my life
contained it’s end in it.
I now suffer, counting minutes
As life is breaking into bits and pieces.
The infected blood of a man flows
all through my interiors:
killing me day by day
carrying my soul far away.
Why is it I to face this end
And neglected by every friend?
Here I crouch in the warm world
Of my mother’s womb.
But I know the fate I shall
Face in a few afternoons.
The world shall have me
for a few days;
and for no fault of mine
my end I shall face.
Ma suffers too
Crying with pain-
Not of her death
But of my ill- fate.
She prays that I never
Come out with this fever.
She realizes her fault
for having borne me at all.
I shall face death
Less than walking the earth a year.
Oh! What a life I shall face.
Is this after all my fate?
Here I lie on my bed of death
Thinking of the dreadful night-
For a moment of bliss I slept
Beside a harlot for a price
I never can repay. For it has
Costed me my twenty years of life.
People try to cheer me up
With completely withdrawn hope.
I smile back- dejected,
with exhausting force.
The few moments of in-experienced bliss
Has now shattered me to pieces.
My life shall pay for my unloyalty
to my loving family.
Off I ran with my friend
to print those fancy designs
on my legs and hands.
Little did we know that it
costed more than we expected.
So we shared the same pricker
Without the slightest realisation.
Years trod and the designs faded;
taking our life along with it.
Had we been more cautious
we could have saved the illness.
Why don’t we get another chance
to prove our ignorance?
Is death the only punishment
for our foolishness?
About the Author
Keerthana Venkatesh is a passionate writer with a penchant for positivism via thoughts, actions and alternative therapies.
She has worked on the editorial of some of India’s biggest media houses and as content management and marketing head in various corporates.
An avid traveler and a doting mother, she finds inspiration and the energy of positivism through places, people and her daughter which she showcases in her blog titled "This Short Story"!