Rajan took a deep breath as he surveyed the surroundings. He had moved to the bedroom. He started the quiet preparations. To the ultimate solution. He moved the stool closer to the bed. The final process would take a few minutes.
He paused. His mind raced to the events of 2019. He had been a contended man. A job as a middle level manager with a six-figure salary and a job, not without its stress, but still sedate enough. It didn’t matter that it was a private organization. He had been with it for the last seven years and had seen a steady growth. Professionally, it was good enough.
His world revolved around his family. His wife Latha was a sweet lady, though she would nag him now and then. Sunny, the boy was 10 years old. He was very fond of tinkering and showed less inclination for academic pursuits. But, the apple of his eye was his 14 year old daughter, Rooma whom he doted upon.
Life seemed like a breeze. Till Covid struck in the early part of 2020. The government of the day decided that lockdown of the entire system was the only solution to contain the dreaded Corona virus. Factories closed down. Businesses shut shop. Life came to a standstill.
As businesses started winding up the scene was no less than the after effects of a holocaust. Life and livelihood were lost. There was an exodus from the cities as migrant workers and those in the unorganized sector bore the brunt of this calamity.
Rajan also started to feel the pinch. His salary was first cut by half. After all, it was about survival. As the situation prolonged so did the effect. The enormity of the situation slowly started to sink in.
One cloudy day in August brought the bad news. His HR called to say that they were cutting jobs because of the compulsions. The order book was almost dry and the market would take a few months, or perhaps years to recover. Some departments were being merged and staff cuts were happening sooner than later.
Rajan was politely, but firmly, informed that his services were no longer required. The words took some time to sink in. That week, he retired to his bedroom. He wept. He couldn’t believe that years of loyalty had come to nought.
His family sensed that something was wrong. Finally, he could not hold the burden in his heart any longer. He told Latha. She cried. She cursed. The love and respect she had felt for his boss turned to hatred and more hatred. She cursed the system. It only supported the rich. She wailed,” What about the EMIs? The card payments? Oh God, what will we do?”
He knew he couldn’t take further risks. Job hunting became the new online pastime. He wiped the virtual dust off his resume. It required a lot of updating. His daughter tried to be helpful. She would surf the net. His wife was a silent sufferer. Her emotions would range from hope to despair and back. Only the son seemed to be least affected as he continued chatting with friends and now and then looking for online gadgets, pestering his mother to open her purse strings.
Days stretched into weeks and weeks into months. They had partially reworked the loans, using the moratorium period. But was this a blessing or a curse? Interest was being levied on interest. He felt helpless. The savings were also getting depleted. Maybe they would manage for a month or two. The school managements had also started pressurizing for the fees. The job market was restricted. He was either over-qualified or over-aged.
He felt he had reached a dead-end. There was nowhere to go. He prayed to God to forgive him. He thought of his family. He had failed them. He decided. He was ready for the ultimate step. He hoped his family would forgive him. He was Rooma’s ideal human. But humans are also fallible.
He selected the time. 11 am would be best. His wife would be busy in the kitchen. His daughter would be browsing the net. His son would be engrossed in the online classes. He silently had breakfast with the rest. His wife and daughter seemed to be going through the motions of breakfast, each one lost in her own thoughts. He had let them down. He would let them down once again. This would be the last.
He had lost confidence. He could not find hope. There was no light as the tunnel seemed endless. He left his laptop on and kept it on the dining table so that his daughter, the most observant one, would feel that he was working. His phone was on the table too.
Silently he moved to the bedroom. He gently closed the door. He could hear his wife bustling about in the kitchen in true monotony. His son was busy on the phone. But Rajan wasn’t sure whether he was attending his online class. Actually, he didn’t care anymore. The daughter, he was sure, would be busy with her sessions.
He was ready for the final act. Somewhere, far away, he could hear a phone ringing. But that hardly bothered him now.
He slowly moved the stool and lifted it onto the bed. He picked up the rope which he had taken out from the storeroom. He climbed on the stool with an air of resignation. He tied the rope to the fan. The other end formed a noose. He eased his head till the rope touched his nape. He began tightening it. His legs were ready to kick the stool…
In the far background he could hear a faint voice. It was getting louder. As he kicked the stool, he could recognize the voice. It was his daughter’s. He could sense the excitement in her voice as he started moving towards darkness.
Vaguely, he could make out some words. “Papa, papa! There’s a call from Ramesh (your ex HR). ……They’re offering you the job back!”
He could just about hear his daughter’s hysterical scream.
His last thoughts as he slipped into oblivion: “Oh God, sorry. I should have waited a bit longer.
Please give me a second chance……….”
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