Nec- Romancer- I

(This is fictional one, I am writing this because I have faced this and also now I am writing a research paper in suicide that is why I am here trying to write about suicide..and talks with the one who have suicided and those died in front of me. The things which are real are informed in parentheisis that these are not fictional)

1. Ravi Dada.. ( My brother who died due to kidney faliure )                  

2. Sarina …( Name changed, whose death cause is unknown, either it was suicide or drug overdose.)

3. Reema …( Name changed , my friend’s sister who suicided )

4. Sandesh Dada ..( My broher’s Mit who died because of drug overdose )

I am writing this fictionally trying to be a nec romancer, the one who talks with the dead ones. This writing is truly imaginative and it belongs to my own thoughts and aspirations. So here are the talks that I am thinking that I will talk with them and the answers I assume that I will get. So this is my own monoply nothing related to any ones life.

Sweta -: Ravi dada, I am Sweta remember ? Your Sano Mama’s daughter. How have you been, its been nearly 5 years. I am sorry I couldn’t visit you when you were in death bed but my mom was there remember that ? My mother had told me how were you talking about and how have you catched your mother’s hand that you didn’t wanted to leave this world? How it feels like leaving the beautiful world that you have spent many years. I feel that dada, how it had been difficult for you to leave, but the reality we need to leave this world like a debt being paid.

Ravi Dada -: Yeah, Sweta I am fine here but the nostalagic image haunts me day an night. I have the soul of mine but don’t have the biological existence called body. I am together with you all in the memories and that is my biological structure but the soul nobody has seen yet and that soul is me. I too miss so many things that I couldn’t do such as marriage ( not fictional ). You know how I wanted to marry and you dad was the one to console me. I feel goodand thankful to your dad, a girls life would have been ruined because her husband’s death was fixed.


Sweta -: Sarina ( name changed ) , tell me dear friend how were you dead. The cause of your death is not known to anyone dearie. Ambir told me that you died in India, due to drug overdose or you have suicided ? You have married too and that sounded cool but your death news made me cried on the very spot.  Your sweet smiling face haunted me at night to, the low-peej rings that you wore. What the hell is this?, I thought and wanted to meet you desperately, knowing that I can never meet you dear friend. Tell me about you.

Sarina -: Yeah, I have married ( not fictional ) , to a over-aged guy who took me to India and then I was so much frustrated. My drug passion didn’t let me do anything and my husband made me frustrate more and more. You know that I was motherless and a Christian ( not fictional ). I did a big mistake by marrying him and that is why my frustration became more and more and I began to use drug even more than before and one day I thought , it would be better that I kill myself then I thought about the baby that was growing within me. I thought this baby too didn’t have any future and thats why I tried to suicide and it became successful – I died and I don’t have any regrets of leaving the world so much creul. I hated my biological existence and that is why I have no regrets of being dead.


(The other two conversation would be either updated or be posted in next post )



Disillusioned and I am in dismay

I won’t disrespect, be sure

I know I am culprit and I am feeling this guilt

I have been alarmed but I closed it 

 I hadn’t wanted to wake up from the sweetest dream

And my dismay in this appall

Disillusionment is killing me inside

To tell the truth I am living outside

I am strong…I am strong….hear this

I can survive either I have been crucified

I can live in this appall

To tell the truth …..I am lieing

I don’t know why I am lieing

Why this is necessary to lie??

I am in this…..what ??

I don’t know….

I don’t know….

I really don’t know…


P.S.  I don’t know why I am being morbid..I don’t know why I wrote the above poem..Bishesh was here few minutes ago..I am listening this song.. Lamha Lamha ….I don’t know why I am feeling the pain of this disillusionment…I am perhaps disillusioned but actually I don’t want to be disillusioned….