8 hours ago
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I slowly opened my eyes. Everything looked blurry. A different kind of noise was heard. Where am I… Why are people standing around me and who are these people? And what does it smell like? Why are medicines stored? The atmosphere looked very heavy.
“Deepti has regained consciousness, call the doctor quickly.”
“Deepti, are you okay?”
“Thank God you came to your senses.”
“Don’t talk now. Let the doctor take a look first.”
And many more voices…it seemed like they were all eager to talk to me. But who are these people? My vision was blurry, but I recognized her by her voice. They all look like foreigners.
Gradually the blur also ended. I looked carefully at each one. Everyone is worried about me, but I don’t know them.
The doctor started examining me. Asked the nurse to measure blood pressure and prescribed some tests. Then he started asking me how I was feeling.
“Is there any pain or any other problem?”
“I have a little headache. I don’t feel any other problems,” I said slowly.
Upon hearing this, expressions of relief appeared on the faces of the doctor and the people standing around me. He talked to me in a very natural way, as if he had known me for years. I looked at him with blank eyes. I could not connect any identity bond with him. I’m trying to understand how I got to the hospital. Where was the last time I was and why was I brought here. Do I have an illness or an accident?
Wrinkles of confusion were forming on my forehead. When they saw that I was not responding, everyone became worried again. When I came to, the glow of happiness that had appeared on his face had faded.
Even the doctor looked worried. He took my file and started reading it.
“Deepti son, recognize me, I am your mother. This is your father. You must recognize your younger sister. And look, aunty has also come to meet you. Do you remember that you are her dear?”
Questions circulated around the room again. These questions tormented me.
“I don’t know anyone. Who are you?” I tried to get up, but the headache got worse. I moaned.
“Nurse, give him an injection quickly. Everyone get out. Let him rest now. It’s not good to stress him too much.”
Everyone left the room, but before he left, someone who was supposed to be my father asked, “Doctor, how are you?
“Her condition is stable. But for now, she will have to stay in the hospital. We will have to watch her constantly. But don’t tell her anything about Deepti’s condition. It may worsen her condition.”
I must have been given a sleeping pill. The eyes began to blink. I was wondering who he was talking about? Is anyone else sick? Why won’t he tell me about my condition? Do I know him?
After I was released from the hospital, people who told me they were my family brought me home. The room they took me to was very nice. There were beautiful pictures on the walls. Paints and brushes were on the table. There were also some blank canvases on the wall. He said this is my room, then why doesn’t the room look familiar to me and who is painting?
I had to start a new life. The things of the old days were caught with my lost memory. Everyone would try to remind me of the past. I showed my photos and videos with them.
I would just smile. I couldn’t make those people sad who loved me so much, cared about me so much. Aunt often sat near me and started crying. She used to hug me.
“My child, you will soon remember everything. We all love you very much. How can you forget us?”
When I saw his wet eyes, I would pray to God to restore my memory.
But it seemed as if the past memories had disappeared somewhere. Days passed. I stayed at home, spoke less and only came out of the room when called upon.
“Deepti, you’ll love meeting people. If you don’t remember anything, make new memories,” my mother explained, placing her hand on my head lovingly.
Following his advice, I started meeting people. Especially from people who don’t know me yet, so they can’t remind me of anything. Trying to remember would give me a headache.
“How can you forget me Deepti? I am your childhood friend. I was out of town when I came back I came to know about you.”
I looked at him in surprise. She was my age. I thought she was very cute, just like a barbie doll.
“Don’t look like that. I won’t be able to take it. I’m Vineeta, your best friend.” She hugged me and her affection overwhelmed me.
“I don’t really remember anything, but I sure would like to be friends with you,” I took her hand.
After connecting with Vineeta, I also started connecting with her family. She sat and talked to them, trying to understand them and trying to come out of her shell.
“You know, you are a very good artist. These paints, the brushes, the canvas are all yours. Try and you may be able to paint again. This is the art in you. No one can separate it from you.” One day, while holding a brush in her hand, Vineeta said that I think I really know how to paint canvas.
If I sat down to paint, I would feel very relaxed. I felt a change in me.
Vineeta’s cheerful nature drew me to her. I started going out with him more often. We both got along well.
She once took me to a party. We both danced a lot. Then a very clever young man came to me with soft petals of love dancing in his eyes.
“How are you Deepti?” He asked.
“I’m fine,” I replied out of politeness.
By now I’m used to these types of questions. Then he took my hand. I don’t know why I couldn’t break free. There was intimacy in his touch. Despite being a stranger, he didn’t seem unfamiliar. Do I know?
Sometimes Vineeta used to come there with my family.
“This is Girish. He too was discharged from the hospital a few days ago. Both were injured in a car accident.”
I couldn’t understand anything. When did the car accident happen and why was he in the car with me.
“Girish is your fiancé. Both of you are planning to get married soon.”
I was shocked to hear this. If she has a fiancé, where has he been all this time? It’s true that he was also hurt, but why didn’t he come to meet me and why didn’t the family tell me this until now. What is happening to me, where have my memories gone? I was getting confused.
His touch soothes me. Is that why he gives me peace because I was going to marry him? The firmness with which he held my hand showed that I could trust him.
Why would this family who lie to me and Vineeta who says she is my best friend lie to me with so much love?
“Deepti, I’m sorry. You got into this situation because of me. You told Girish to drive the car faster and I was increasing the speed. I wish I hadn’t listened to you, our accident wouldn’t have happened.
Knowing that you had forgotten everything, I could not muster up the courage to meet you. Then Vineeta explained to me that even if you don’t recognize me, my love must surely reside somewhere in your subconscious. You will believe in me and accept me as your own.
will you marry me Then we will live in our home and create new memories. You decorated our house with so much love. The walls of this house are decorated with your pictures. Are you going to see it with me?”
I saw Girish. I can’t say no to that. My heart told me to trust her. “Yeah,” I said, gripping her hand tightly.
– Suman Bajpayee
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