I feel dizzy and look a bit run-down, as I’ve been lying on the same bed in a hospital for a fortnight. There’re more than 10 beds in here. It’s 11pm. Almost every patient is asleep, but relatives of some patients are still keeping a vigil. I look around. Luckily, my most beloved mother isn't around. Two nurses of my age are continually talking to their boyfriends on the phone. I’m wondering why nurses speak politely to high-class patients only and give them special attention. But there is one who is completely different from the rest. Every patient feels good when she is here.

It’s Reena. She’s an erudite, pretty, eloquent, courteous girl and if I portray her as anything more, you’ll think I’m exaggerating. I usually watch the TV hung on the wall or read English newspapers when I feel bored. But if she’s with me, I’ll look into her hazel eyes. I’ve been seeing them since I was admitted here and still have no idea what lies behind those innocent eyes. I never even had a hint what that pair of eyes was looking for. I didn't think their glances would cut through the heart and leave someone helpless and miserable for the rest of life.

The bouquet on the windowsill was given to me on Valentine's Day by her. That reminds me of her presence. I know I’ll be discharged after a week. I’m praying for my slow recovery. Sickness isn’t exactly a happy condition, but it's also true that it has given me a chance to redeem my sense of loneliness. Earlier, my face used to sparkle with light and joy and I was recovering faster owing to her love. She was angelic and charismatic. Our relationship was blossoming gradually. Spending time with her gave me heavenly bliss. So I don't want to lose her. I was hooked to her like a fish to a bait.

I’m looking outside through the window. I’ve never looked outside before. Tall trees, green plants and beautiful flowers are hung with snow. Trees are standing bare. The horizons appear as a blur in the frost. I want to bask in the sunlight. But there is no sunlight.

When I was admitted into the hospital, no one was beside me. A nurse came to me and felt my pulse. I fell in love with her at first sight. After a while she placed a thermometer in my armpit. "Don't get worried. Everything will be okay. Isn’t your spouse taking care of you?" she said. "Miss, I’m single," I retorted. “If so, miss the coy smile of your girlfriend," she recommended. "If you have no girlfriend, then look into my eyes and feel good."

Now, I’m used to looking into her eyes. My eyes badly want to see her. I wish Suraj were with me, I’d introduce him to her. Suraj, my best friend and colleague, would be happy to see her. I dial his number. But it is out of reach. Maybe his phone is switched off. He’s a busy Mathematics teacher. We often had tea at a shop in the afternoons. He is a down-to-earth man. He does everything with meticulous care in his profession. Besides, he’s creative and decent.

Just before I came here, I had been to his house. It was a holiday. There was nobody other than his cousin. He told me to surf the Internet on his laptop until he returned. I turned his laptop on. As he’d saved his password on the laptop, his Facebook account was opened automatically. Suddenly, a message popped out. It was from a girl, Reena. "My honey, what's up?" I pretended to be Suraj and answered, “Fine n u my sweet heart?" "I really need to meet u at any cost. We r ruined", she sent. Again I typed, "What's the matter? R u okay?" She didn't reply. In the meantime, I minimised the Messenger chat box and was browsing the web. Fifteen minutes later, I shot a glance at a notification at the bottom of the screen. I clicked on to the chat box. It was a melancholy text from Reena.

The text read: "I didn’t get my periods. So I bought a pregnancy test kit to confirm pregnancy. The result is positive.”

The word "pregnancy" really struck terror into my heart. My mind went blank. I was overwhelmed. I wondered what step Suraj would take to cope with it. Someone knocked on the door. It was Suraj’s cousin who left a cup of hot tea on the table. As he left, he left the door ajar.

No sooner had I taken two sips of tea than an idea struck my mind. I started scanning his room for his diary. I found it and went through it. I found a page with a patch of glue. Perhaps Reena's photo was unstuck. Below the mark, there was a poem entitled "My Reena" read:

Nobody loves you,

Nobody likes you,

Because I am Nobody.

By Suraj

“Amar! Amar!” I heard Suraj’s voice coming from the gate. I threw his diary where it was taken from and pretended to read a book. We had a short chat. He told me many things about Reena before I took my leave.

It started to rain, I felt thoroughly chilled. I had just made it home. My mother had already fallen asleep. The light of thunder and lightning hit my ears constantly. Needle of the clock was striking one…two…three...

I was lost in deep thought.

***

“Amar! Amar! Wake up. It’s already 7.” I am in the hospital bed. My mother comes in with a cup of hot water and some buns. “It’s time to take you medicine. How are you feeling?” she asks me, placing her warm and soft palm on my forehead.

Day is just breaking. Feeling bored, I ask my mom to get me a newspaper, as always. “You’re not well. Can’t you just rest now?” she says.

My eyes catch sight of two familiar photos on the front page of a newspaper that looks many days old. My heart is palpitating due to shock. I pick the newspaper abruptly and read the headline “A couple commits suicide”.

Then, I see the Valentine’s gift, the bouquet, has a card in it. I unfold it and there’s a note.

“Dear Amar,

This isn’t a rose but a keepsake of our relationship which will remind you of our unforgettable time that we spent together in the hospital. I know you love me selflessly and I love you, too. But it’s too late. So please forget me as a pleasurable dream. I’ve a boyfriend. We love each other very much. Goodbye, take care of yourself.

Reena.”