She had been such a sweetie. As beautiful as you could imagine with a complexion as pink as a baby's. I was indeed lucky to have her with me. She always stuck with me, in my joy and my grief. Like honey on the horsetail as they say. We had always been together and the world knew it all along. Her earliest memories stretch as far as my memory itself.
But like all strong relationships, ours was also strained at times. Sometimes to the threshold. There were times when I just wanted to get her out of my life, forever. Our fights were never private and frankly they could never have been. But we always sorted it out somehow in the end. More of my patience and persistence I would like to believe now. Then, I shouldn't be digging the dirt up again, now that she has left me forever.
But of late, it was indeed getting difficult to manage her. The relationship was more strained than ever. The fights occurred and it was for the whole world to witness. And she was getting more violent. Everyone from the society watchman to the office colleague came to know what was happening between us. The sweet girl I had known for years was slowly turning up against me. The decision, albeit hard, had to be taken. It was time to end it, end her, once and for all.
I went around searching for men I could trust, who could do it the way it needed to be done. However sad I felt, the other half in me wanted me to witness it in all its gore. And it did win in the end. My rage made me decide that I would see through it. The plan was made, the money exchanged, the date decided. Poor she, could never have imagined what was in store for her, especially after all these years. But I had it all planned out.
The day I was so eagerly awaiting for, finally arrived. She was as innocent as ever, difficult to say if she was faking it or otherwise. In fact, I had started doubting everything about her these days. But it was certainly I, who was faking it that day. Early in the morn, when the roads were empty, when the sun was still in its slumber, I took her out, out to the place where I had planned for it to happen. We were walking together, next to next, touching each other one last time.
And then it happened. We ran into four men, my men, the men who were contracted to do it. She stopped in her tracks, but still had no clue of what was to unfold. Suddenly out came the knives and they approached her menacingly. And it was then she looked at me in disbelief. I said nothing, simply turned away, expecting to hear her curse. But gracious she was, said nothing, just stared at me in the eye. A needle pierced me, more through my heart than anywhere else. I closed my eyes, for I could no longer bear to look at it all. Seconds later I suddenly passed out. And then they started. She bled a hell. The sharpies pierced through her blood again, and again. But she was silent, stunned by my betrayal. Blood flowed freely and then she was all but stationary...
Hours later, when I would wake up, she would not be next to me. No more would I get to see her, no more would I get to fight with her. All of a sudden a sharp current of pain rose up my head and I felt sick. Before I knew I threw up blood. I could eat no more. Every mouthful reminded me of her. Of how I used to touch her, pat her, caress her. Was trauma beyond anything I had ever known, had ever endured all these years.
It still hurts. Fair. After all, 23 years it was...before I killed her. But should I repent it? Do I miss her? The other half, as wicked as it always was, tells me, "She deserved it. No regrets, in fact, joy". But I am not as stone-hearted, I do miss her, although not always. What has to be done, should be done, and was done. But now she is gone. Gone forever, my Tonsils.
Quick Gyan: Adult Tonsillectomy has one of the most painful and frustrating post-operative periods. Ten days of the worst pain you can imagine with your throat feeling as if it is slashed with a dozen razor blades and then sprinkled with a liter of Tabasco sauce. Also the adventure horrifies with age.
Conclusion: A Tonsil causing problems even at the age of 15 should be cut out asap to avoid the crappy ordeal later in life.
Hours later, when I would wake up, she would not be next to me. No more would I get to see her, no more would I get to fight with her. All of a sudden a sharp current of pain rose up my head and I felt sick. Before I knew I threw up blood. I could eat no more. Every mouthful reminded me of her. Of how I used to touch her, pat her, caress her. Was trauma beyond anything I had ever known, had ever endured all these years.
It still hurts. Fair. After all, 23 years it was...before I killed her. But should I repent it? Do I miss her? The other half, as wicked as it always was, tells me, "She deserved it. No regrets, in fact, joy". But I am not as stone-hearted, I do miss her, although not always. What has to be done, should be done, and was done. But now she is gone. Gone forever, my Tonsils.
Quick Gyan: Adult Tonsillectomy has one of the most painful and frustrating post-operative periods. Ten days of the worst pain you can imagine with your throat feeling as if it is slashed with a dozen razor blades and then sprinkled with a liter of Tabasco sauce. Also the adventure horrifies with age.
Conclusion: A Tonsil causing problems even at the age of 15 should be cut out asap to avoid the crappy ordeal later in life.
