A Day in the Life of Someone

"Water! Water!" cried a desperate man. Pain written all over his face, there was fear in his eyes. His mouth was open as he strived to inhale. Amidst this struggle, he raised his head and looked into the dark expanse above him, studded with twinkling starlets. It was dark, yet beautiful. Just like this one day of his life.

Just another day for a local cobbler who started his day at seven in the morning, when the monde set out for the rat race. Be it the banker, who wanted his black Liberty polished like mirrors, or the local goon who tore his sandals every other day, the cobbler was always at their service. Most paid him while the rogues denied him any remuneration. This was life, he consoled himself.

It was past sunset. Our man had no idea about the time; he never did. He packed up the bundle of coins which counted to 143 and some decimals, the reward for sitting under the sun for about eleven hours, breathing dust, coughing a few times and polishing thirty six shoes and mending twelve.

It wasn't easy to face his love with nothing in his hands for his house. After a hard day's work, he was intercepted by the money lender on his way back home. Despite his relentless pleading, the stubborn creditor extracted every coin that was there in the bundle, leaving hardly anything for the cobbler, who was, as it is, drowning in debt. With the little math he had learnt from instincts, he knew, what the obstinate dog snatched from him wouldn't clear even a tenth of what he owes him. Well, the commitment doesn't end there. Apart from the borrowed principle, which itself was a sizeable sum, there was a still sizeable price of money to be fed into that hungry hound's hands. Some day, he thought, he will earn so much that he'll throw the entire amount on that rascal's face. Well, what's wrong in thinking? It doesn't cost to think and dream, does it?

As usual, a quarrel which gets a little physical. This evening was no different. Vessels were thrown in his direction. He was blessed with a string of curses form his woman's mouth. Since it was part of the daily agenda, he stood through the entire session, with patience and more importantly, perseverance. After all, he knew, more than anything, that this display of anger was only momentary. For after every storm, there is a melancholy silence. He waited for the silence.

Frustrated and tired, his woman gave up. She turned her back to him and wept to herself. He went to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. He turned her towards him and raised her face to look at him. Her beautiful face was dirtied by the dust of the day and tears of her plight. He wiped the beads of sorrow from her eyes and shielded her from the world in a tight embrace. A happy ceasefire. It was special for them, the union, though, again, it was a part of the daily agenda. After all, she was his sole happiness in this terrible world.

Amidst their little love games, he started feeling uneasy. Something really weird. Perspiration followed by gasps for breath and then the wretched coughs. He became restless. Alarmed, the wife ran for some water for her struggling man. Something was terribly wrong. He looked in the dark sky. The night sky, lit up by a million bulbs. A faint smile on his face and the fear in his eyes disappearing, he felt strangely contented. His head was swooning. Everything he saw seemed to darken, slowly, gradually. Were the bulbs dying out or.....