Fathom

“Why don’t you commit suicide” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to do.
I met him just an hour ago coming down the stairs of my building. As mine was the top floor on the multi-storied building he must have surpassed to the terrace in search of someone, was my guess.
“Searching for someone” I asked hesitantly as always when talking to strangers.
“Not any one in particular” was an unexpected reply with a more surprising smile, which I was not used to because often people find me irritating. I don’t know if it’s because of my face or the stupid grin I usually give.
I couldn’t think of a response to the diplomatic answer. Sensing my confusion, to lighten up the things he said “I live in the same building, just out of loneliness came out to see if I can find someone to talk to”
I understood the reason for his smile.
He was a short middle age man wearing white T-shirt and brown 90’s style pant. Taking into account South India’s passion for lungi, I was sure he was from somewhere upside of the country.
“Well terrace is locked, you might have noticed”
“It has been long since, it seems you live all alone on this floor?” he said cutting me short.
“Not exactly, there are two other guys, one went for the morning shift and other has gone home. It can be pretty boring in here on shift offs. There are no places to go and certainly no one to talk to” I said sensing we share the same emotions.
“I have never seen you before” I added
“Neither do you recognize mates of other 36 out of 40 flats living here. Correct me if I am wrong” he said with confidence.
“As a matter of fact you are correct. People don’t mingle with each other much in this part of the country and they are particularly afraid of the unmarried singles like me. Would you like to have some tea?”
I don’t usually do it. But for no particular reason at all, with a formal introduction which was just exchange of names I invited him for tea. After he came in, for sake of precaution I deliberately kept the door open and took the excuse of nice wind coming through.
“So you got your kitchen all set up” he said after I handed him over the tea.
“That was the first thing I did, it can be very tiresome to find good food out here especially for the North Indians.”
“I see you are Computer Engineer, they don’t require much of you in the cooperation” he said seeing my Operating Systems book.
“They don’t require a single one of us in the plant. It’s just their some bullshit policy which makes us the prey. Well at least they pay me” I said realizing that was the sole reason I was out here in the jungle while my batch mates are making merry in metros.
“That’s a contradictory Facebook status here ‘Socially Dead….’on a social networking site” he said pointing to my laptop screen displaying my Facebook home page.
“That may not be literally correct, but taking into account my physical social interaction which is nil and online which is limited to checking the status of others, the statement can be considered true.”
“So no girlfriend I guess”
“Looking at me do you even consider any girl will look at me?”
“So you have a job you are not interested in, no girlfriend, no creative skills, an awry face and no social skills. What the hell are you doing on this Earth?” and then he asked the most obvious question.
“What do you mean” I said trying to assimilate the things he said.
“Do you know about the guy who lived right across your floor?”
“One who did fell off the terrace?”
“Let’s say he did ‘fell off’. So why don’t you commit suicide” he repeated the question.
“I am a Muslim, may be not the virtuous but a practicing one, moreover doesn’t the law of land declare suicide a crime”
“If not the persuasion may be fear will do!”
Since then I am unable to understand the cause of inconsistent rattling sound coming from the roof or from somewhere within me.