Every time i start a post i write a disclaimer, but today i won’t, because i am not a human and i need your wraths and scolding to feel like one.
Last week, i brutally murdered my conscience, something which i always treasured along with my integrity. I never had a night with so many ups and downs. I never realised that i would be a murderer when i planned a special birthday for a special friend. After we cut the cake, we roamed around Delhi the way we used to, few years back. We were all happy, all five of us.
How i killed myself: After a sumptuous dinner at pandara road after midnight, we were returning via India gate to drop our friends, home. I was sitting behind the driving seat in the rear. I saw a small sedan taking a sharp left in front of us (some 50 meters away), a small blue and white bundle flew out of the right side of the car. The car stopped for a moment and then sped away. I thought it was crazy for them to throw waste near the Rajpath intersection, on the road circling India Gate. Evidently my friends didn’t see this as they were engrossed in some conversation.
As we neared the packet, we realised its an old man. He was still lying in the centre of the road and some dogs rushed towards him, barking. I told my friends what i saw and they denied seeing something like that. My mind said what i saw was true. One of my friends told us about how he was trapped while helping a drunkard off the street. He suggested that this was a drunkard and we drove past him. I was a fool to try believe in what he said and kept silent. Maybe i was worried that we might get into trouble with police if we tried getting help. i definitely didn’t want to spoil my friends birthday. But the fact is i did believe my eyes and I was scared to admit.
I pity myself for the lack of courage to ask my friends for help. After few moments, i realised that he was lying in the middle of a road, and might get killed by the next vehicle passing through that road. I was such a shit that i couldn’t help my self to open my mouth. All horrible thoughts of that old man getting killed because of my keeping silent is killing me, even today. Later in the night i even fought with my friends over nothing.
Later i returned to India gate, hoping that i will find the man there. He was not there. I don’t know whether he is dead or was saved by humans, but i know for sure that i killed the last of humanity that was left in me. I am unable to look into a mirror for i see a murderer. Sleep evades me. I tried being normal, but i can’t. I had to drink alcohol till i went senseless to sleep yesterday.
I never speak of my dreams to anyone. Its not just the usual dreams of being rich and living like a king. I dreamed of being a politician and change the world or sometimes i was a lawyer fighting for the poor. Some days, i created a university for the poor orphans who never got a fair chance to live. But now i can’t dream again because they are not me. How can i, somebody who didn’t stand up when someone needed me, even dream of changing their world. I feel like a worthless piece of meat.
I wish i had gone to church often. Maybe a confession to the priest could have made my heart lighter. I haven’t been to a church for years so i don’t think that’s going to change my condition a bit. I have no clue on what to do, except than to confess here.