Intoxicated

Crash!!!!

His Fall seemed to be like an eternity... The white background, and the sun.... thud!!!

Is this heaven?... One doesn't feel cold in heaven...he thought as he slowly gained his senses... Why is it so dark? Have I lost my vision? How can I be alive? .... It must have been the rope... He was grateful that he had taken all the precaution... but where are my teammates?, his thoughts continued ..

He tried to get up and felt a sharp pain in his ribcage... it was unbearable.... It was then he realised he had a fall.

He thought... I had fallen a million feet and survived. How am I alive .... I am not supposed to be alive.... No one can survive such fall. How long have I been unconscious... One day.. two day... a year? It is a miracle that I have survived..

"Damn man", he cursed through the unbearable pain as his brain slowly tried to come over the shock... I cannot be unconscious for 1 year.... and I have fallen a few hundred feet not millions. How many feet? That is impossible to tell... but he knew he had been unconscious for only few hours or he would have froze to death. He could still freeze or go into hypothermic coma.

Six feet of snow had broken his fall and he was alive. He knew that he had broken a couple of left ribs may be more, and ideally he should stay still. Movement of any kind could pierce his broken ribs into his heart... but much he wanted to stay still, he had to move....

I can't just die yet!!! I have to move on... The leader calls me a fighter... and a fighter I am... It doesn't matter whether I will make it or not.... But I won't give up!!!, his mind fought with his broken body.

With his trembling hand he removed his mountaineering goggles. Slowly, and very slowly he unstrapped his haversack, his fingers were ice cold... and tried to roll.... again... biting through his pain... he tried to move his leg and felt a sharp pain in his thigh...

"Oh god ... even my femur is broken...", he cursed for the umpteenth time... Morphine would help... Bearing his unbearable pain he rolled on his stomach and then crawled towards his haversack... Every inch seemed like a mile and every minute was a like a year in hell.. but he won't give up yet..... After what seemed to be hours... he was finally able to take that morphine injection .... and injected himself.... and his head ...which was the only part of the body showing some noticeable movement collapsed on the haversack...

He waited... and waited for morphine to show its effect. His pain slowly subsided, and then a human like shadow rose on the snow dessert under the moonlight. He was able to see everything around him. At 26000 feet the snow reflected all the light from the full moon... He spotted a natural shelter and dragged himself to it. He adjusted himself to the rock covered with ice and using it as a support lowered himself on the snow carpet. He felt exhausted by a walking to the shelter. He felt his throat parched dry... and looked for his thermos...

It was in his haversack that he had left at the crash-point. He cursed himself again and dragged himself to the haversack again. He took out his thermos and put it to his lips. Damn the water was frozen. He cursed himself again! and then began the basic technique to make water from ice. It takes time to melt the ice and it appeared to him that ice would never melt.

After quenching his thirst, he held the thermos in his hand and crawled back to the shelter. Once inside, he laid straight on his back exhausted.... He dug deep into his side pockets and took out a crumpled cigar and a lighter. With his shaky hand he set a light to his cigar in the flickering flame. He took a puff and watched the smoke forming an irregular pattern in front of his face before disappearing into the air. It was snowing outside and in the silence of the night he could hear the burning of his cigar. For the first time he had the time to look at his shelter. The gray rocks formed the roof of his tent eight feet above him. The ceiling was coarse and the rocks appeared to hang in the mid air defying gravity. The cave was four feet wide and had a large entrance. It was deep too how much he could not tell. As he had to turn and look. The right wall was plain probably due to climatic erosion.

Despite the tough terrain he found peace there. Was he intoxicated? Was it the effect of the morphine? He had another puff and looked at the gray ceiling and thought ... "I have to check the radio...and radio the camp" He was too tired ... he wanted to get up and go to his radio... but he just couldn't...

He took another puff and realized it was getting windy. Another puff and he closed his eyes. The wind brought snow on his body but he didn't have strength to move it off. Another drag and he heard a soft voice.."I love you!"

He eyes opened, it was just hallucination! The gray rocks brought him memories of that day. Valentine day.... It was... The gray bus.... She asked him to come behind the school bus as it was the only area where no one would come! Close your eyes I have something for you, give me your hand. He did so. She came close to him... He could feel her breath on his neck and ears and she whispered..."I love you"... and then he felt something wet in his hands. He opened his eyes to find all her friends giggling.. and in his hands was ink from her ink-pen!!! She had just put all the ink from her pen into his hand and was laughing with a twinkle in her eyes! Deeply embarrassed, he just walked away from there. A smile came on the corner of her lips. It was the first time she said those words...

The temperature outside had dropped to about -32 C. They call it a death zone but he found it so serene. It seemed to him that he belonged to this place. The wind howled in his ears and he was intoxicated to this feeling. Memories came back to haunt him... but this time he found them pleasing.... He put his hands in his jacket's inner pocket and took out her photograph .... He didn't remember how their relationship grew or why she chose him in the first place. Probably, she managed to pull off one prank on him or the other. And he would be a willing victim because the twinkle in her eyes, her laugh, and the naughty innocent smile she would pass was too good to resist. He remembered their motorcycle rides.... On that day... on their first bike ride..... "Faster", she said and he accelerated... "Faster"... and he went full throttle. "Take out the helmet... feel the wind"....And he obeyed...he thought "Is she out of mind?" but he knew she was always like this... And then she leaned towards her ear.... he turned to look back... "Look ahead ...or you will get us both killed, stupid". He laughed ... and felt the wind speaking to him.... On the bend, he heard a soft whisper.... "I love you!".... "Screech! " the bike came to a sudden halt! He looked back directly into his eyes.... "Did she say that? ... or was it the wind?" He found no clue in her eyes. "Who said the eyes are window to the soul?" Those kind of eyes she had can be described only as "mesmerizing", "enchanting", "bewitching", "addictive" and "intoxicating"...

Another puff... and he closed his eyes...."How could she torment him like that?", he asked himself... But he soon grew addicted to the torment.. He was intoxicated... Every time ... He would go on the ride with her... and on the bend... when his speed was maximum he would hear those words...."I love you".... Was it the wind or whether she said it... He never wanted to find out.... He was just intoxicated to the words... They called him the speed demon in his college.... but he knew... he was just intoxicated by the feeling...

He could feel his fingers going numb... and his leg growing cold... The pain was unbearable... but he was in trance... And then, she had left him all of sudden... without any information... A dreadful silence.... Perhaps she was never his .... she had never been his... Those words which he heard at those rides had brought him to the mountains... He always wanted to hear the same words ... in those snow storms... yet, he never heard them until now.... Here in this cave.... The wind that brushed pass his ears... spoke to him, those very sweet words...

Outside the climate was changing rapidly... The wind grew stronger... it was the beginning of a snow storm.... And yet he laid still smoking his cigar, with his eyes closed... totally unaware of his environment... he was at last in peace with himself... And suddenly, a strong wind carried her photograph away from him...

He turned left with a speed of lightening, in a futile attempt to grab the photo.... The photograph laid on the snow carpet at the end of the cave....about 10 feet away from him.... He got up on his broken leg... and tried to move forward to pick it up... His pain was unimaginable...

His broken leg failed to support him beyond two steps.....He fell again on his left side.... and felt something wet near his face. The snow grew scarlet in colour....He laid still and watched the scarlet pattern... And the pattern grew near his face....

The ribs had done the damage..... He no longer felt any pain... He found his body going numb... I can't die just yet.... I am a fighter ... I am not going to lose it... I won't give up ... I can't give up

He produced strength from nowhere...and crawled and crawled those never ending "ten feet"... He reached for the photo ...and held it to his face... His face bore a contented look... and closed his eyes... He was intoxicated for ever...

And the battle between the crimson liquid and fresh snow continued.....