The last dream - A short story

The sun was rising, peeping over the horizon; filling Dev’s room with its aura. It was all red in his room. It was a new day. There was a face stuck into the glass opening in the door. Manjeet was looking through it, hoping for him to survive and win the last battle of the war of his life. But, Dev was in a different place altogether.
It was all white there; completely serene. He was alone, walking down the white emptiness thinking of everything; of Mili, of Piya, of Vineet. And of his bad luck and the cruel twist of fate. He didn’t know where exactly he was, for all he could see was an emptiness, white and clean. It was an untouched part of his soul, where his fighting spirit dwelt. It was part of his soul which remained untouched, unharmed by the scathes of time and from the claws of destiny. He was determined to win , to come back from middle of this nowhere. Dev wanted to live his life, to exist, as a befitting answer to the mockery of destiny on him. He wanted to survive.
Dev was alone, walking down the endless emptiness. It was full of light, so much that it hurt his eyes. He wanted it to end, his eyes ached to see some colour, the colours of life. He wondered where was , and made up his mind that even if he was dead, he won’t give up. He would keep walking and eventually this emptiness will end, and he will open his eyes to a bright and colourful world, waiting for him to come back. And then he saw it. A streak of red. And then a drop. And then, there were two more. The drops formed a puddle or two every two or three steps.
It was blood; raw and fresh. In the white light, it seemed much brighter; its impact was very much greater. Dev followed the trail. A trail of bright red blood. And, it was dripping from a slit wrist. He knew those tender fingers so well. The pinkish glow in them was lost, and they were white; bloodless. He looked up. It was Mili. His very own Mili. She was there before him, looking straight into his eyes. And she was in that same yellow salwar kameez. But, something was awkward. Her face was white, like her hands.
And, it wasn’t anything like the cheerful brightness he was surrounded by. It was a pale white, seemingly a shade for someone back from the dead. Her eyes stuck out, surrounded by dark circles. As if she had been sick for ages, and had no intention of recovering again. As if, her soul has been wringed out of her; bit by bit, with every falling drop of blood from the slit wrist. The look in her eyes was dead. Well, almost.
Dev reached out for her, and she moved farther away. She seemed so near to him, but Dev couldn’t reach out to her; as if she was in some other world and an unseen wall separated them. And then, mili smiled. You can kill a person, diminish the spirit and defame the name; but when you stare at that person’s smile you realise the power of positivity. It is the reflection of all the positive things that the person has possessed at some point of time or other.
As she smiled, Dev saw the whiteness around him give way to kaleidoscopic shades, of bright blues, vibrant reds, sweet yellows and naughty greens. It was a never ending maze and the colours multiplied endlessly. Mili finally spoke,
‘Look Dev. I am here, to be with you.’ She extended her slit hand to him. Behind her, the colours seemed to merge into a frightening darkness. Dev could see the unfathomable depth of it.
‘No Mili, I will not come with you. I am happy here, in my world. I am happy with my whiteness, my emptiness. And the colours too.’
‘ But Dev, I brought colour into your emptiness. You were stuck in it; I pulled you out.’
‘For what Mili? To lure me into the darkness behind you? No Mili, I won’t come. And you didn’t bring the colours; it was the warmth of your smile, the memories of your laugh that brought these colours back. You are a bad remembrance of who you actually were. ’
‘So you are not coming DEV?’ Mili voice had a tone of sadness to it.
Dev gave it a thought. All these months he had wanted Mili to come back one last time, to answer his questions. And now she was here, asking him to come with him, to lure him into the world of death.
‘ I want my answers Mili,’ Dev said finally, ‘and then , I’ll be coming with you. Tell me, why did you go? Why didn’t you reply me all these years? Why did you made me suffer so cruelly?’
Mili had turned her back to him. She started drifting farther away; and stopped for one word. She titled her head in the manner she always used to, winked at him, and said,
‘NOTHING Dev. NOTHING.’
The joke was on him, yet again. But, this time, Dev won’t let her go at any cost. He shouted all he can
‘Why Nothing MILI? Why? Mili .. don’t go.. don’t MILI... MILII WHY???’
Dev spit out some blood. He could see Manjeet staring at him through the window. He was in a hospital room, and all he remembered was the car running into him. His next memories ranged back to the walk in the whiteness. Within the next few seconds, he was swarmed with about 4 to 5 doctors. He could see his mom praying at the door; tears in her eyes. And he heard the doctors saying,
‘He is just fine. He is out of danger. What a fighter!’
There was tinkling of instruments, sounds of scurrying footsteps around him. A murmur of thank you from his dad; and a nervous wavering of a gentle hand over his head. Dev has won the war. He had survived. He lived. He lost the journey of love. But, still, he survived.