By Eswar Tavva
As the evening sun began its descent, bathing the surroundings in a warm orange glow, Sai Kiran and I set off on our daily stroll. We ambled down the pebbled path, its edges lined with crocus flowers dancing in the gentle breeze. Towering oak trees formed a natural arch above us, their leaves rustling like a whispered conversation. To our right, the neighbouring row houses stood shoulder to shoulder, their red brick facades glowing warmly in the setting sun. Beyond stretched the lively city skyline, skyscrapers fading to silhouettes as dusk embraced the horizon. Dotted across the street, lampposts flickered on one by one, casting cheerful halos on the sidewalk.
Our footsteps crunched rhythmically as we made our way along the route, familiar yet holding subtle discoveries anew each day.
Sai Kiran, my companion in these twilight strolls, was an unmarried young man of barely twenty-five, occupying one of the homes lining the road. Our evening walks had become a ritual that would take us through the neighbourhoods we had walked together for years. That particular evening, I twisted and turned the Rubik's cube in my hand, absorbed in the rainbow puzzle while Sai sipped on the fizzing cold drink, I handed him earlier. He finished his drink satisfactorily before thoughtlessly launching the empty can into the bushes. By the time we had passed rows of pink blossom trees and picket fences signalling we were mid-journey. Then I turned to him and asked, "Did you know what you just drank?"
"Yeah! It's a cold drink," he replied casually.
"Yes! It may be a cold drink, but did you realize that I mixed a dangerous poison into it? And when we reach the end of the road, it will kill you," I said threateningly.
He stopped abruptly and faced me. His countenance transformed, assuming a grave demeanour as he locked eyes with me. After pausing for a moment to consider his response, a smile played upon his lips as he retorted, "No, you must be joking."
"No! I am speaking with utmost seriousness," I declared emphatically, raising my voice to emphasize my sincerity. From the confines of my pocket, I retrieved the vial of poison as evidence of my intentions.
"Look!" I exclaimed, holding up the poison bottle. "This is a very dangerous poison. It kills a man in five minutes and one won't feel even the slightest bit of pain while dying. The arteries start bursting immediately after it's consumed, all while releasing a drug that completely numbs any sensation of pain. It's quite a comfortable method for dying." I showed the description of the bottle, hoping he would understand the severity and uniqueness of this particular poison.
I could sense the surge of adrenaline coursing through his body, seeing it reflected in the intensity of his gaze. In a display of aggression, he seized me by the collar and bellowed, "What?! How could you do this to me after everything?"
Taking a step back from his hostility, I maintained my calm demeanour and responded, "I am merely offering you a mercy. Your life has lost its value."
His grip tightening, he defiantly challenged, "And who are you to judge the worthiness of my existence?" With a show of brute force, he attempted to lift me off the ground.
With a firm shove, I forced him to retreat from me. And then, his tears flowed uncontrollably. He turned his gaze towards me, his voice choked with emotion as he stuttered out the words.
"W-what... What mistake did I make... in my life... t-that I have to be... killed?
I stared at him for a moment, disbelief etched on my face. "Don't you remember?" I asked, my tone laced with frustration. "Let's rewind to when we first stood at the crossroads."
As I stepped out of my car, I noticed Sai Kiran standing on the road. Clutching a cold drink, I approached him. His fingers wrestled with a Rubik's cube, a puzzle of colours causing him visible difficulty.
"Hey there, Sai Kiran! How did your day go?" I greeted him with a wave.
"Hello, Eswar! The day was wonderful. And yours?" he responded politely.
"Oh, mine was fantastic as usual! I just can't get enough of this road. Say, how about we go for a nice walk?" I suggested eagerly.
"Absolutely! Lead the way," he agreed, showing his enthusiasm as we set off.
As we walked, he fiddled with a Rubik's cube while I enjoyed a refreshing cold drink in my hand.
After a while, I inquired, "What did you do this morning?"
"Today morning, I had some guests over at our house. I spent some time with them," he replied.
"That's interesting! And what about yesterday evening?" I pressed.
"Oh! Yesterday evening. I..... I..... I did ......" He began to stutter.
"I don't remember what happened. I am not getting it," he admitted, his frustration growing.
"It's alright," I reassured calmly.
"Alright?!" He exclaimed in surprise and continued, "What do you mean, alright?! I can't remember my own memories and you're saying it's alright."
"Yes, it's okay. There's no need to worry”, I said gently.
He looked at me with confusion in his eyes and asked, "Why am I suffering from this? What's wrong with me?"
"You've been experiencing some memory issues, correct?" I inquired, maintaining a calm and informative tone.
"Yes! I can't remember things from day to day," he replied, his confusion evident in his voice.
"Can you recall any events further back, like from your childhood?" I probed.
"My childhood, school days...those memories are still clear," he confirmed.
"It seems that the difficulties lie in forming new memories, not old ones. Does that resonate with you?" I explained further.
"Now that you mention it, yes," he agreed, connecting the dots.
"Have you had any head injuries or accidents in the past?" I asked, hoping for more insight.
"There was...that car accident last year. My head hit the windshield," he recalled.
"I believe the injury may have caused damage to a vital part of your brain called the hippocampus. This area is crucial for forming new memories," I stated confidently.
"So that's why I can't remember recent things?" He sought clarification.
"Precisely. It's known as anterograde amnesia. The injury is impairing your ability to lay down new memories," I explained matter-of-factly, displaying my expertise on the subject.
He remained lost in thought, trying to make sense of his situation. After a moment, he shook off his shock and we carried on walking together. Absentmindedly, he began fiddling with the Rubik's cube again, lost in his own world.
Looking at his struggle, I offered, "Allow me to give it a try." I took the cube from him, my voice filled with understanding.
"Take this drink," I urged, handing him a cold beverage. A small act of comfort amidst our shared pain. Later, he took a sip and callously discarded it.
His words stung as he declared, "Don't you dare claim that I am killing you just because I suffer from this disease."
Gently but firmly, I countered, "Indeed! You speak true. But do you truly comprehend the agony of existence without memories?"
His response was quick and resolute: "Yes! I understand the pain all too well."
I couldn't let his misguided belief go unchallenged. With compassion in my voice, I clarified, "Oh, my dear friend, you are mistaken. You fail to recall the weight of forgetting your newfound moments. Your life is an endless cycle of erasing your own existence. Society perceives you as a burden. Is there any purpose in such an existence?"
He continued sobbing, his tears flowing uncontrollably. I reached out to him, my voice calm and soothing as I tried to offer some solace.
"Don't worry," I reassured him gently. "Just a few more minutes, and you'll find peace."
Meanwhile, we arrived at the end of the road and came to a halt and Sai Kiran collapsed to his knees, weeping uncontrollably.
The despair in his eyes intensified, fear gripping his every word. Desperate for survival, he pleaded with me, his voice trembling with a mix of terror and hope.
"No!" he cried out desperately. "I don't want to die! Please, there must be something we can do. Please help me!"
He looks up at me with pure terror in his eyes. "I'm begging you, let me live! I don't want to die."
"What did I ever do to deserve this?" he pleads desperately. "Just give me another chance, please!"
His breathing grows rapid and shallow with fear. "I'll do anything you ask, just don't end my life."
Shaking violently, he grabs my leg. "You can't do this to me, I'm too young. I'm scared!"
Tears and mucus stream down his face as hyperventilates. "Have mercy on me, I'm not ready to die. I'm begging you from the bottom of my heart!"
I studied his tear-stained face, the weight of his desperation hanging heavy in the air. Taking a moment to gather myself, I offered him a glimmer of hope.
"I have an antidote," I revealed cautiously. "But before I can administer it, you need to show me just how much you truly desire to live." My tone turned stern yet compassionate as I added, "Don't even think about resisting. It won't end well for either of us."
His voice quivered with uncertainty as he asked the question that was weighing heavily on his mind.
"But how...? How can I convince you?" he stammered pleadingly. "You're supposed to be a doctor. You can't condemn me like this!"
"Time is ticking. Just one minute," I calmly stated, idly twisting the Rubik's cube between my fingers.
"Please! Spare my life. I yearn for a normal existence. Yearn for a family, children...just like anyone else. Please! Grant me life!" he pleaded, his voice trembling as he sank to his knees, tears streaming down his face.
"I beg of you! Allow me to live!" he wailed, the desperation in his words echoing through the air.
As the minute ticked away...
"Alright then. You've made your case clear. Let me admit this to you," I revealed, retrieving a syringe filled with the antidote and delicately injecting it into his veins.
"How are you feeling now?" I asked, my tone direct and matter-of-fact.
"I don't know... somewhat dizzy. But it's strange, I have this odd sense of familiarity," he responded, his words trailing off as he contemplated.
"Yes! You're onto something. That feeling you're experiencing, it's a result of the medication I administer daily to treat your disease. It's your medication for your disease and you know that you have had a medication phobia. Remember how you used to be afraid of taking medication when you were younger? Well, this is why. If I were to tell you straight up that I'm injecting this dose into you every day, you'd refuse and your condition would worsen rapidly. So, for your own well-being, I've had to create this daily routine," I explained, concern evident in my voice. As I finished speaking, I handed him back his Rubik's cube, now fully solved.
"Until tomorrow then," I nodded and left.
By Eswar Tavva
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