An Ordinary Life - Prologue

I always dreamt of being famous. But not even my wildest dreams had a billion people praying for me, with the whole world watching.

The TV set shows a news reporter, standing outside the hospital and giving a progress report on my 'condition'. The media here is fickle. A single story can be picked up by all the stations, and easily forgotten the next day. Which is why I am surprised they are still following my 'condition', even after two weeks of my first appearance in national media.

You see, I am in a hospital room. Its not bad at all, actually, if you compare it to the Government Hospital (also called GH) down the street. There are many SMS jokes that go around, about people never leaving a GH alive, but let's not dwell on that. Life is too depressing as it is, without us making it worse by talking about the obvious. Ignoring bad things becomes a way of life.

Well, I am sitting on the plastic chair in the corner of the room, but no one knows that. Thats because my body is on the hospital bed in the center, with all those scary looking machines hooked to it.

They say there is a white light that appears when you die, and you should walk to it or remain a ghost if you choose to be earth-bound. I can see something glowing in the distance, perhaps its the white light they speak of. I expect Yamraj, the Hindu God of Death, to come by, on his mount of choice, a buffalo, anytime soon. I don't think I would mind. It is said that the body is a temporary residence of the soul, and after death, the soul is reborn until it attains moksha or attains a balance of karma. Maybe my next life would be a better one.

But I can't leave just yet. Not when a billion people are praying that I come out of the coma. The prayers are like invisible threads, holding me in place in this in-between state. I have been in a coma for the past two weeks.

Ever since the latest terrorist attack.