There is hardly any person in this world who has not wished, at least once, to have been dead. But there are a very few people who actually dare to die. They say suicide is for cowards, but ironically it takes a lot of guts to venture into committing suicide. And I am one of those who dared. Today I decided to end my life.

Yeah, the deciding of it was easy enough. I had been suffering for some six months now, stressed and distressed by several events in my life relating to all the personal, academic and professional aspects. So the only way visible to steer clear of it all was to get myself to steer clear of this world. Done! But after this decision, the real problem began. I wanted to die a painless and quick death so that, you know, I won’t have to suffer much. But this is where I found a dead end. I couldn’t zero down on a single such method. Jumping from a skyscraper would be too painful, and added too that if anybody saw me trying, a lot of fuss would be created. No, that won’t do. The next to think of was drinking some poison. But from where would I get it? No druggist will give any such thing to a boy of sixteen. And at home I only had the option of drinking those floor cleaning liquids or the mosquito repellants. Yuck! I can’t even drink a glass of milk without sputtering and retching a few times; forget those horribly sweet-smelling liquids in my mouth! I’ll probably vomit all my guts even before tasting a capful. Moreover, nowadays with the degradation in the quality of almost everything, if nothing would happen and I would only get an upset stomach to end up on a hospital bed, every single one in the family and relatives would find out- and fuss again. No, that won’t do either. So, should I try slitting my wrist? Well, that would invite a lot of pain and a lot more of that annoying fuss. Now I was at a loss of ideas. There simply isn’t any method for one to die in peace, it seems. On a thought – how nice it would be if someone plans to murder me? All the problems could be easily solved then. Mine and my murderer’s too. But unfortunately I never did anything to anyone for which they would want to do away with me. Hmm… Once I did push my friend into a gutter on the way back from school and laughed at him for nearly fifteen minutes before helping me out. A lot of people, including my friend’s crush, had gathered around, and he must have felt humiliated because he didn’t talk to me for days after that; but I don’t think this is a reason strong enough to wish for murder.

Alas, alas, no, I have to be bit more practical. What if I catch a thief, prevent him from stealing into a house and in his anger he sticks his jack-knife into my stomach? Spot death and glory all together. I would be famous for at least three or four days in the media. Now who wouldn’t want fame, even if it is after death? That sounds all the more thrilling, in fact.

So the next day, very early in the morning, I positioned myself in our backyard to catch the flower thief who used to steal our marigolds every day. I know that it was foolish to think that flower thieves would carry a jack-knife, but just in case they did, it would be a welcome prospect and I would die without much trouble. With a lot of excitement and apprehension running inside me, I caught him that day itself. But to my disappointment, he didn’t have a knife. In fact he was such a meek sort of person that he didn’t even struggle or fight with me; he folded his hands, pleading me to let him go. I left him. Giving me the polythene with all the flowers that he had cunningly plucked, he ran away. Heartbroken I simply went to Puja room and handed to polythene to my surprised mother, trying my best to avoid her prying eyes. She was extremely delighted, not because of the flowers, but because I had woken up so early.

Father was delighted too, and I had to endure a lecture on why one should wake up early and how good it was to study at 5 o’ clock in the morning. After all the torture, it was only natural that I went to my room and started thinking of places where I could find the thieves who are pros and do carry jack-knives and pistols or whatever that could bring me death. Hard as I thought for hours and hours, I could think of no such place. It was a very quiet and peaceful area in which I lived. But still then, not losing hope, I stayed up for three nights and stealthily loitered around the colony after everyone had slept, in case I found a thief running. But I found none. And on the fourth night, I was caught by the Police patrolling van. They asked me what I was doing there so late at night and I had to invent this silly excuse of having lost my father’s car’s keys nearby I was searching for it only after he had gone to sleep. I doubt that it didn’t convince them, but after a few minutes of negotiations, they warned me to go home and left me. I ran home immediately and from the next night I abandoned this practice.

Sleep deprived and frustrated, the next day I started wondering why I wanted to die. Oh yeah, the hell lot of problems. But which exactly were they?

Uh yes, one definitely was my chemistry teacher, who hated me and I hated him back with double the hatred. Lately he had been pestering me for my grades and called to attend extra classes due to which I was unable to go on with my football practices. Next, I had recently broken up with my girlfriend because she was finding it difficult to get along with my friends. At home my parents were continuously haranguing my ears on why I should choose science next year for my 10+2 while I wanted to go for commerce. The summer vacation was coming to an end, and here I was, instead of enjoying them, was attending extra classes and getting tortured at home. And lastly, I had been looking for an inspiration to give a boost to my literary career, but had found none, and hadn’t been able to write anything good or get published.

Now I was at a loss for actions. I couldn’t decide what to do next. I couldn’t die, nor could I go on living like this? Or could I? What if I shifted my football practices to the first half of the day? Then I could attend both that and the extra classes, even if I’d have to wake up at six in the morning. That would hurt a bit, yes, but it would only be for a few days, as the extra classes would continue for a week more. Hey! Why didn’t I think of this before? One solution made, the other problems seemed unimportant. Rita? Well, if she couldn’t get along with my friends, she could never get along with me in the long run. I’ll definitely find a good girl later. And my parents – my tenth grade had just started, so it was too early to listen to them seriously. I’ll ignore all that now and think about it at least after my mid-term exam. Lastly, as for my literary career, I think it will be best to start with my school magazine.

Yes, so now there was no need to die. How foolish I had been. And what disaster I would have brought in if I had committed suicide. Pooh me! And how many days I had wasted thinking nonsense and sauntering all over my locality! It was all a waste. And this story of mine is a trash story. But on second thoughts it was great for the school magazine – for every one of those students whose reasons are too weak and sentiments are too passionate that they decide to end their lives.