Wall of body

He felt like his forehead was hollow from the right temple to the nose, his tongue was stiff, his throat was scratchy, and his feet were freezing.

He had walked about seven miles from Connaught Place to Model Town on that chilly December night. He had to wait about three hours, and during those three hours, he never gave up smoking.

He struggled to take off his shirt, pants, and jacket due to exhaustion, but as he changed into the loose nightgown, he felt slightly relieved that his bound body was free.

He went to the door with the quilt pulled up to his shoulders on the spotless bed after turning off the light.

The bed was chilly, the room was cold and the obscurity in the room was cool, however, the fire was running in his veins because of depletion. To provide him with some physical comfort, he liked the cold bed, the cold room, and the cold darkness.

When the bed started to burn with the stench of his exhaustion and he began to suffocate, he had only turned a few times.

He now felt as though someone had put chilies in his eyes, and his eyes were also burning.

He was struggling to breathe. As if the bed were on fire and the room was filled with smoke. He removed the quilt, wrapped it, turned on the lamp, opened the skylight, pulled the rope, and opened both windows and doors.

He felt a chill through his body, which helped him catch his breath and remove the burning soles from the unfinished floor. He sank into the chair and let out a long, contented sigh.

It was three in the morning.

She was focused on the empty wall. The whiteness had turned yellow in one location, and the plaster had separated and was about to fall in another.

He carefully examined the patched-up, ripped plaster.

The room was cold and he was happy that his hot body was quiet, just his eyes were fixed on a piece of scratched yet recuperated mortar. They were in flames.

He stared at the ripped plaster for a long time, as if he could not bear to see that piece of plaster fall. The piece did not fall because it held. His breathing stopped, his eyelids began to burn, and his eyes became irritated.

He got up after leaning on the chair's arms. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers as he closed his eyes and walked slowly toward the bathroom.

He felt like he wouldn't be able to get to the bathroom and would fall with every step he took.

In the bathroom, a water bucket was kept. He sat down, opened his eyes, spread them, and began to spout a lot of water as a fire had started and he was afraid the fire would spread.

She shivered a little and stopped splashing with her hands as the water got to her chest and stomach, getting her nightgown a little wet.

His eye irritation subsided, his eyelids relaxed, and his breathing returned to normal.

A slight quake created in his body and he felt a slight torment in his back.

He walked slowly into the room, turned on the lamp, and lay down on the bed.

The room, the house, and the darkness were all cold.

It was four in the morning.

His eyes were soaked by waves of sleep.

There were murmurs to him.

Nigam, you've grown accustomed to moving through life quickly! You smoke cigarettes and drink a lot of alcohol. You travel a lot and consume a lot of coffee. You read a lot and accept every accident and incident, regardless of whether it is related to you or not! Nigam, why don't you take it easy? You don't like alcohol, so stop drinking it and quit smoking. All of these things stretch your veins and make you more extremist. My dear, get some rest, get a good night's sleep, and sleep with your legs outstretched!

"My dear Mathur, I will rest and I will rest soundly and I will rest such a lot that you will choke, regardless of whether you need to awaken me by playing the band, I won't awaken!"

Don't think that way, Nigam. Additionally, this way of thinking is grave!

Mathur! You are both a doctor and a friend of mine. You are a doctor who wants to save my body. I am aware of your doctor's anguish. On the off chance that my companion beats the specialist in you, I will tell him. Do you know where, at the age of 32, my grandfather fell asleep? in the garden of Jalianwala. My father was four years old at the time! At the age of 28, my father passed away. When do you know? In 1942! He was three years of age around then! I am currently 24 years old. The charity of my grandfather and my father's youth is being returned to me by the same people who are today the lords of power. They are enjoying luxury after luxury after luxury! I don't have any blood in my veins, but anxious waves do. My mind has erupted into volcanoes of hatred, and my heart is like a sea of sorrow. Presently I don't have a place anyplace. Nothing remains. I just can't sleep...!

He finally fell asleep.

It was going to fall soon.

At the point when he opened his eyes in the first part of the day, his head was turning, his eyes were dull and his body was hot.

He got up on all fours and gulped heavily while his bones crunched and a faint smile tugged at his lips as he stood up.

He observed the mirror. He misplaced his face. Black, thick, dry, disheveled hair with a few glinting silver strands near the bangs. The yellow eyes had a nameless luster of sleep, and the heavy eyelids were falling on top of the broad forehead and thick eyebrows. A straight nose, dry lips, and a wheatish complexion are all present.

As if he were looking in a mirror at a crumbling, centuries-old building, he recalled his face, and the traces of its former splendor seemed familiar to him.

His legs began to shake. His centuries-old, decaying, dilapidated building, which seemed so good to him, began to shake in the mirror. He slowly made his way toward the bathroom after putting the mirror down.

Ten was the time.

He had the impression that he would be lying face down on the final step the next moment as he slowly and tremblingly descended the stairs, cigarette in hand, around eleven o'clock.

On the lawn below, young people were having fun. After giving each other cheek rubs, he left the main gate.

He was losing his balance.

When an earthquake of coughing began, it shook him to the core after he had taken a long drag on the cigarette. At the point when he spat, this huge mass of mucus showed up out and about. Even though his stomach was empty and his kidney reached his throat, he did not vomit.

After a seismic tremor of hacking, his eyes watered and his stomach erupted. As a potter would, he dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief and let his stomach burn as he could not do otherwise.

He felt like his legs were about to give out as he waited for the scooter for a long time outside the main gate.

Noon had arrived.

He struggled as he raised his hand to signal the scooter to stop when he saw that it was empty.

The scooter came to a screeching halt ten paces away when the driver applied the brakes.

He moved very slowly and with difficultly.

He felt a jolt as he got closer to the scooter.

When the driver asked, "Hindu Rao Hospital or Arun Hospital?" he had just opened his mouth.

His lips trembled and his heart sank.

''no...! Place Connaught. Regal Construction The tea house! With great restraint, he pressed his lips against his teeth.

The driver was taken aback. He gave her a wide-eyed stare for a while before he slammed on the brake with a frantic heartbeat.

"Who knows if this person can get to the tea house or not?"