ULTIMATE SMELL- THE DEATH!

His sleepless nights continued as they were for last couple of months.  Only few could note the changes happening in him. He was living somebody else’s life. Everything he thought existed disappeared as if he was awakened from a beautiful dream to the state of being nothing. Soon he became depressed. Slowly it caught up his professional life too. He went office regularly, pretented to be enthusiastic. Once he really was, he thought and let pass a sigh. But he decided to stop playing around! He tried to have some introspection. Nothing happened. Nothing seemed visible. He became more depressed. He thought about alcohol. But he decided against it because he was worried of getting carried away. He thought of spending more time with his friends whom he met since he came to that City. But none of his thoughts were getting executed for last two or three months. He doubted whether he had some thoughts in the first place and occasionally sighed like a lost man. UNCONSCIOUS SIGHS YOU KNOW..

 He thought about his early days in the office. He was never worried of anything. He asked stupid doubts and moved around. Positive energy was oozing out of him. Nothing seemed impossible. But everything turned upside down in no time. He even started thinking about bunking office; he started finding stupid reasons to stay away from the office and more surprisingly from people. He just wanted to be alone. Once he himself told his boss that he is feeling sick and he almost wept. Then he came to understand that he is a miserable manager of his emotions. He found his tongue tied when he was asked about something. He could not even look straight into the eyes of the security guard, let alone his colleagues and bosses. Even the jokes cracked during the breaks became horrible to his ears. None of them had made sense to him. He was in another world. Soon he had withdrawn completely inside the shell of his own thoughts. 

When the depression and unnecessary thoughts started eating his brain he rang up his professor who earlier introduced him to a counselor when he encountered the same problem during his academic days. Amidst of the entire busy college schedule his teacher tried his level best to motivate his mentally stuck ex-student and guaranteed him that he would arrange a meeting with the Counselor very soon. Though the telephone conversation with his professor was comforting, his ex-student, the depression stuck (un)professional was not finding his sleeps and ran away from the city to his home town early in the next morning without even telling his boss that he would be absent. 

All he wanted was to reach home as quickly as he could. He didn’t think about his boss, job and his colleagues. All he knew was that he had to be home as fast he could. Nothing else seemed mattered. He got irritated and worried when each time his phone beeped in his pocket. Sometimes it was his colleagues, sometimes it was his parents. He didn’t bother attending them.  After all he had no answers for their questions. Finally his boss also called him. He felt guilty and took the call and told him that he was in a bad mood early in the morning and could not tell him that he was not well and would be on leave. Had it be any other boss his association with the company would have finished then at there.  He expected a firing at the other end. But it was as if his boss understood the changes happening in him. He consoled him and asked him to call him when he reaches home back. He thought his boss would be one of the most respectable men in his list, had he made one. It only increased the level of respect in his mind for his boss. He felt really energetic and enthusiastic. Well, regret was in plenty, that question itself seemed out of place. But soon the train reached the station, everything flown away like a kite which has lost its’ rhythm in the foul wind. 

When he reached home, every incident flashed against his memory walls one by one. He wanted to cry. But he understood sadly that he was that cursed, even tears stopped coming. Then he wrote what he wanted to write. He thought of publishing it straightaway without editing. But someone inside stopped him from doing the same. Though he battled hard against it, finally he listened to the insider and he removed most of it. But before removing those paragraphs he might have read the original script for fifty times. Every time he read out, he could realize a peculiar smell attached to those words and sentences. It took him a whole night to identify that smell. It was nothing but the smell of death. The ultimate fate! He checked himself for an assurance. He was not dead. UNLUCKILY :(