I am sleeping, but I can feel my wife is watching over me. I had to squint my eyes to focus on her. She has changed a lot. Maybe because of my situation, maybe because of our situation. She has become so rude and harsh ,sometimes I myself can not understand if I am the one who fell in love with her. I pretend to be asleep. I know she is not going to be silent if she knows I am awake now. Even in the hospital I need to take care of her presumption. But she is exhausted I can see. I want to talk to her, hold her hands and tell her that I love her a lot. Especially her strong perception about feminism. Her persona. I want to adore her hair also. She is the cigarette of my life that I can not quit but surely can die for, at least that is what I know. But I can not move my hands, any parts of my body right now, As if I am a newborn, exploring everything for the first time. The pain inside means nothing now.
Day by day, I am becoming weak. It is getting hard to move, eat anything, smoke and take a walk, complete the office tasks. I guess my time is ending. Even though I want to die, death is playing with me. I am astonished at myself. Is that obvious that every survivor has to surrender once in a lifetime? To whom it should be concerned? To whom I should surrender for my death? I am getting infuriated by my diseases now. I am not giving up but I am tired of fighting, fighting for so long that I guess the fight itself would have given up already.
The freedom fighter club that I have been always referring to, is gone. I am poor now, an impoverished and debilitated patient. The independence I have earned for this country did nothing for me except this catchphrase,
“He is a freedom fighter “
I am choking. I guess my time has come. I am looking for my son. The younger one. As his elder brother is not here right now, I don’t know but I am still checking for him too. I want to say sorry to him for not being the father he always wanted me to be. Where is he? Did he come for me or not? I am choking. I can’t breath. I need air, it is suffocating. I am searching for him. Where is he? Is he coming or not?
My head is spinning around. I am choking. I can’t see anymore. It feels heavy here. I want to call him. But I can not. Looks like someone is entering my room. I guess he has come. I want to hug him, as long as I can. I just want to hug him. I want to hug him like before, the little one. I just want to hug him now.