Winter’s Tale

The weather was cold and gloomy. I could hear the sound of wind blowing through the Cyprus trees on my backyard and it gave me a spooky feeling like the scene of a horror movie. I was all alone since the rest of the folks have gone to the town for dinner. They wanted me to go but I refused with an excuse of headache. If only they knew the truth. The truth that I had hidden from them for the last two months and will remain within me till my dying day.

I was feeling a little giddy and had gone to see the doctor who was a good friend of mine. He suggested that I undergo some medical examination and I agreed. I was asked to get the report the following day.

I had completed my work in the office and just as I was going out when my cell rang. The caller was the doctor and he wanted to see me immediately. The call had me all worried so I drove to the hospital which was five minutes away. On reaching there I learned that I had just three months to live. I thought that my doctor was kidding but I also knew that doctors don’t kid about death. I don’t remember how but when I came to my sense, I was walking near the Memorial Chorten, my car forgotten in the parking lot. I just remember mumbling to my friend that the truth should not be revealed to anyone, not even a single member of my family. My friend was kind enough to comply with my request and drove me back to my office. That evening, I stayed long hours in the office on the pretext of some work.

The sound of the approaching car brought me back to me present world. Two months have passed since that day. I have swings in mood which sometimes frightens everyone around me. They sometimes wonder what’s wrong with me. Of course everything is wrong with me but I would never reveal that. I don’t want their sympathy and I don’t want them to suffer worrying over me.

I wish I hadn’t known what I knew. I wish I hadn’t gone for that medical checkup. If I hadn't gone to the hospital that day,  my life would have been different and I would have died peacefully unknowingly.

But fate has different ways of bidding us farewell! I now understand that it gave me time to prepare myself for my last days. I see each day differently now and I have just one more month to live. I am constantly under medication, but no one knows the truth except for my doctor. Everyone thinks that the medicines that are prescribed for me is for minor ailment. If only they knew about the tumor in my brain that is killing me everyday taking me closer to death and in a month time they will only have my memories nothing more.  

(This is a fictitious tale based on the writer’s imagination)