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Saturday here and Pikku is having no classes today. He is gasping and still trying to collect his breath. In his absence, I was only rolling my fingers and moving here and there in the park. Many a time, I had an irresistible urge to write but my frailty held me back. It won't be a lie if I said that I was impatiently waiting for Pikku to turn up and help me empty whatever feelings I had stashed for the occasion in my leaky bucket.

The hospital is in a frenzy this morning. Through my glass I can see a flurry of activities. Everyone seems to be in a hurry. This is time to administer the first dose of the never-ending sequel of pill popping. Today being Saturday, relatives have finally found sometime to visit poor chaps like us. Minutes ago, nurse had come in and made me assume uncomfortable postures. Why? She was doing my bed and removing things that were hiding beneath the bed-sheet to pinch against my back. She would have sung the cleanliness song if I had asked her to stop and leave me unperturbed with my thoughts. But even now, situations have not tired from stopping by, every once in a while to make things difficult for me in their inimitable style. Pikku has brought me a chocolate, for he knows, I have always loved it. So much so, that on my pyre, I might be seen munching on it. Sit for once in adulation and then sleep forever. Who knows? Strange things are expected to occur after I have had enough of everything.

Do you think the details of my ailment are really that important? It would take him ages to understand what abstruse piece of shit all of this is. He won't be able to spell it for the next ten years. Pikku gives me a glare for underestimating him. Come to think of it, would you bother to nurse a hand that has scourged you since the dawn of time? Pikku doesn't like to hear the name of the disease. As it stands, it is hell-bent to snatch me away from him.

My parents make countless visits to my place. So that I never feel that I am left to my own imbecile, rusty devices. They are the perpetual springs of love. I have always wondered how they generate this endless forbearance to love someone even when he has never reciprocated it in a way he should have. We never pause and think how good our parents are when we are going strong. But somehow now, I have come to believe that even in the most turbulent of times, when even "you" desert yourselves, the faith and love of our parents anchors us to something so immovable that adversities fall like flies in front of it.

Pikku sighs. There is a tint of smile on his lips. I like to think he is smiling because of the same reason as I am. Perhaps not. Because I started beaming first. And seeing it, Pikku gave me the widest smile he has ever sported. I pray that nothing crops up to steal that glimmer in his eyes. So why did I smile? I was thinking how even the most rockiest of people thaw at the thought of death. How all our principles which we have looked down upon all our life return with unconquerable force and we kneel and embrace them happily.

I am going through some of your blogs. They smell of life and hope. Well! to an ailing man, life, hope and love are his drugs. He loses even the last shreds of his immunity whenever he encounters these three musketeers . I would comment and they might seem dispirited and lackluster. Excuse me people for that.

There is a hint of pain in Pikku. Looks afraid. I have so many things undulating out of me! Looks like there is a flood that would take everything in its control. Pikku knows he would grow tired at the end of the day. In bits and pieces, intermittently , he would write, all through the weekend, under the annoying noise of an eternally slow fan. There is a little channel of sweat that has appeared out of some invisible pore in his visibly ( read understandably) pallid skin and is gradually sliding down. I believe when you love someone very much, it cuts both ways. I feel sorry for him. Indeed.

I sound like a cannibal. I feel like I am trying to push him off the cliff. But then my eyes have issued an apology to him and he seems to have forgiven me.

P.S:: For the record, I am strolling in the park and would handpick anyone who catches my fancy. Lets say if you give me a reason to smile, I shall hold you tight , to the point that you may suffocate. I have this knack ( so characteristic of perishable organisms)of clinging to people and things that give me hope. A reason to live.

Underlying mathematics is simple . I like you, I blog-roll you!

Ciao.