Delusions of a Diseased Mind

Lying on a diseased bed  and thinking about time –past and present, an essay comes to mind. In that piece of writing, writer is also ill and wonders how everyone is enjoying the spring season except him. Illness has crippled many and economists have calculated how it hampers productivity. For an adult, single and employed individual who

is staying away from his family, it can affect on multiple levels.

When I was young, illness was such a luxury and rarity that we waited to fall sick eagerly. Falling sick brought a much needed respite from school and scolding. Attention and affection was showered upon us on the expense of other siblings. Mother used to stroke my hair and rubbed oil all over body while I daydreamt about going to field and play with my little friends. Not playing was the only unpleasant aspect of being ill. And of course popping those bitter pills and tasteless biscuits and bland food. At that time, I wondered why these biscuits tasted so bad whom I loved eating otherwise. As soon as I grew up, father got harsher it seemed. He blamed on my eating wrong and staying awake too late for my illness. Mother was still the same and gave me her usual dose of affection and concoction.

Employed life brings money, independence, sense of responsibility, discipline and few sick leaves. There are two kinds of people in this world. One who exhausts his sick leaves and one who does not.  I belong to the latter category.  It is strange how everyone jeers at you when they come to know that you have fallen sick. Hardly anyone believes. They think you are only feigning to get a day or two off from work which you don’t like anyways. They call you not to know your well being but enquire about the whereabouts of files but sometimes they do ask about your health in passing. In the meanwhile, my mother somehow comes to know about my bad health and grows restless and its gets reflected in her calls after every ten minutes! 

Being single has many advantages (we are free to choose shirts and shocks we like) and some remarkable disadvantages like it is difficult to trace those shocks we like or any for that matter. On a somber note, living a single life means one doesn’t have someone to count upon when he needs it badly as when you are ill and need a caring hand and reassuring talks. In this digital era, we take recourse to facebooks and twitters and the likes. Friends posting their honey moon snaps and updates about joining new offices pose strange question before me. Do they not fall sick while taking those tiring seven pheras and learning nitty-gritty of new job! Rarely do people update about feeling sick and if they do, it is metaphorical sickness and not literal one. Often they feel sick over larger things of life – pasta in red sauce and coriander leaves sprinkled over pizza, how tacky, feeling sick! No doubt bad food is largely responsible for our bad health. Living alone forces us to eat outside and makes us prone to getting an infection. And perhaps that is how I got one. I cannot determine which lorrywalah food made me sick. I doubt on that fancy cuisine from the five star restaurant where I go once in a blue moon. I chose not to spit it out lest my friends will come to know my not-so-sophisticated upbringing.

And now when I lie on bed reflecting upon my sick state, I try to find out what is troubling me most – my sickness or indifference of my near and dear ones or over-concern of my mother and few rare fellows like her!