Pills of wisdom

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
The story is about a frantic old man who has an absurd obession regarding his everyday medicines and a hatred towards any other being whether living or non-living. What happened that made him like this and what made him change his perceptions, is what gets unfolded in this heart-warming tale of lunacity!

Submitted: May 01, 2019

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Submitted: May 01, 2019

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In a one-room house with meagre amenities to his rescue, Prakash Chawla was living the winters of his life in a very content and tranquil manner. What else would he want in age as wise as sixty-five? A life too tranquil to even not be disturbed by the fluttering of wings by the birds or the crumpling noise made by the mere falling of dry leaves from the trees flanking his room window. He was secretly entitled as the Gruffly old Santa Clause by the children of the colony. Well, with his woollen red pyjamas, an old maroon cap with a pom-pom at its peak and a rather grim disposition, the entitlement seemed to fit the bill. People of the society have tried to offer sweets and sweet words to him on various occasions of celebrations, but he declined them with a hard glare and a door banged loudly on the face of greeters and well-wishers. A young man even dared to present him with an edition of ‘ A Christmas carol' and hence was threatened to be reported to police if he did the same again. Stories of such old bears with a thick skin is a wheel  which had been spun a thousand  times and taken with interest by every generation; all of them wanting and wishing to peel the layers of that pink, fat onion, with a purpose to know the exact reason for such stubborn and grim attitude of this real-life ‘Mario', who could have looked cute but Alas! Not even bothered to put even mild efforts to smile a bit. All looks of sympathies and empathies burned away in front of his fury. If the famous batsman of the society has thrown a six right beyond the boundaries of his Lanka, those were the last proud moments of the ball and then not even an autograph or a plea to be' sorry and never to repeat it' of the ‘the emerging star batsman of the society' could bring that little round, monstrous thing back. Although, what piqued the curiosity of each and every young and adult of his colony, was his real and deep dedication towards his pills. They were all to keep him alive ( Was he really?). He never really bothered. Every day he would sit in the front porch of his house after lunch and carry the tedious process of reading the names written on the silvery shiny covers of every medicine from behind his heavy-rimmed spectacles and taking the necessary ones out to be gulped down with half a glass of water. Green, yellow, blue, multi-coloured, all white; in different shapes such as oval, round, cylindrical.

 

 "He could forget everything but not his pills, they were considered his treasures and the mere sight of them would make him happy" whispered Meena to her neighbour Asha; Meena was the reporter of the colony- the one who was infamous for starting every kind of grapevine that spreads its branches throughout the society. Though, this time everybody agreed with her. Prakash was vigorously intolerant of anything but his pills. "These pills are my life as they keep me alive, all other things and creatures of the world are of no use to me" he would unabashedly blurt out every time someone asked him about his love for them. One such usual day, he woke up, took bath, dressed and sat on the breakfast table with his box of snacks and the pouch containing his tablets beside it. While taking a bite off his sandwich, he felt weird while chewing and on the next bite he was choking and gasping for breath. Somehow, in between the fits, he managed somehow to take his phone out of his pants' pocket and dialled the emergency number on his speed dial log,-The call was picked up on the first ring. The next time his eyes opened, he found himself on the hospital bed- white sheets, white pillow, a drip attached to his wrist with the help of band-aids or such stuff attached to his wrist, a flat screen tv suspended on the wall in the front and a few people standing beside him.

 

" Mahesh?" His astonished eyes met with a familiar grey pair of eyes looking at him with creases of concern etched above those raised brows. " Yes, I know you don't need us all to interrupt your peaceful life but you had a minor heart attack. The doctor says that you had an overdose of those tablets that you take. Your sugar and blood pressure doses were taken double than needed, and thank God! You called at the right time. The doctor is saying that you still need bed rest and need special care even after you're discharged from here. If you will, please allow us to take you with us. You just need to take your clothes and shift to the house right beside the one that you're living in!

 

 

Prakash still wasn't over with the fact that he had a heart attack, though minor. On the other hand, seeing his family after such a long time was more than a shock for him! He still remembers the day when he walked out of the building that he used to call his home a few years back, he was anguished with the fact that everyone orders him around. On one hand, Meena, his daughter-in-law teaches him to not eat too many ladoos because he is diabetic, while on the other hand, his own son would often advise him to not think too much as overthinking makes one ponder over unnecessary issues of life- what a family, No one cares! So, one fine day he just packed his stuff into a briefcase and briefly bid a lingering adieu to his grandchildren- the apples of his eyes. Gradually, his life started taking a new turn and he held an unknown grudge against everyone except his tiny tablets.

 

Coming back to the present, Prakash realised what he was missing so much every passing second- his family, which stood as a guard against any wrong that might occur to him. He moved back with them and regained a happy composure soon enough. While reading a newspaper and sipping a hot cup of tea to his pleasure, Prakash got lost in his reveries. In the end, he got another wise feather to his cap of wisdom- Love really builds strong relationships. I almost lost my life because of those pills and got it back with the family as a bonus, also because of them- They indeed are precious! Now whatever did what is everyone's own individual cup of tea but what keeps us all afloat in this ferry of life is only the way we love while living and living while being loved!

 

 


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