Kunal opened his eyes and looked at the world with marvel. Everything was new, everything alive. He checked his whole body and smiled at its composition. He touched his smiling lips and giggled at the moving facial muscles. He stood up and fell down, stood up again and slowly learned to walk, and walked towards the table in front of him. The table was not huge but it looked good enough for some writing and it had a pen and a paper on it as well. Kunal sat down on the chair and picked the pen.
The pen was blue on the outside and had blue ink as well. Kunal scratched and scribbled with the pen a few lines and realized that he didn’t know anything further. He looked around and saw a couple of books on the right side of the desk. He picked the one closest to him and opened it. There were several scribbles on the pages of the book along with the shapes that those scribbles denoted. Overjoyed, Kunal started turning the pages of that book, learning what each of the scribbles meant and sounded. He kept moving from one book to another as his vocabulary increased. He learned that each of these scribbles can be combined to form words which can be spoken through sounds.
Kunal opened his mouth to make the sound that was expected according to the book. He looked around to find a way to verify and saw an instrument which he promptly switched on. Sounds started to flow from the instrument which consisted of the words that he had learned just now. He started practicing them and within a few hours, he was speaking the language.
“Beautiful,” Kunal said hearing a particular melody and sang along. He picked up the pen again and copied the scribbles from the books. Initially, he failed but soon, he was able to copy them exactly as the book suggested. With joy, he started scribbling down one word after the other. His wild imagination creating characters and beings that he had never heard about or seen but he could feel them in himself and he tried to put each and every one of them on the paper.
One word followed by another word, Kunal continued writing with hand and then looked at his creation. Unimpressed, he tore the paper down and went back to listen to the music and words to learn more about them. He focused on the meaning of the words and then went deeper on what more can they denote. Hours went by and he continued to read, listen, talk, and write. After many torn papers, he looked at a single piece of paper and nodded.
“Perfect. Finally, something that I will enjoy reading tomorrow. Maybe, I will continue the story and see where these characters go.”
Kunal kept the paper gingerly on the table and put his pen on it.
“Act as a paperweight and don’t let this story go anywhere. I’ll meet you tomorrow my little tale,” Kunal said fondly to the piece of paper and went back to bed. He closed his eyes and went deep into slumber.
“He’s asleep,” a voice whispered through a mic and a few people started gathering around the room. A sleeping gas was passed in the room and the door of the room was opened.
A couple, now in their fifties walked slowly towards their son and sat by the bed. The doctor came and sat next to them and started measuring the medicine.
“Is there no way?” the mother asked the doctor, for the hundredth time.
“I wish there was mam. This is the only medicine that keeps him alive.”
“But can it not be given to him every alternate day? Or at least, can we not meet him when he’s awake.”
“You can meet him but he won’t recognize or even understand you, sir. You know that.”
They knew. They tried that initially but the blank eyes that stared at them were more painful than looking at their son from afar. A nurse used another syringe to pass nutrients to Kunal’s body. The food in the room was also replaced with fresh food. Some days, he would recognize that his body needs food, while other times, he would forget about food completely.
“How long? It has been two years doctor.” Kunal’s father asked.
“He’s showing signs of improvement. He is learning the skills faster. But unless his disease goes away completely, we can’t take the risk of stopping.”
Kunal’s parents nodded. Two years ago, their son fainted and didn’t wake up for six months. His brain fluids, which were supposed to relieve him and create long-term memories had started acting in a weird cleaning mode and started eating his brain. On further checkup, it was identified that if this continued for a few more days, he would collapse completely and die.
The only way was an experimental medicine that was to be injected every night when Kunal went to sleep. The fluid would stop eating the brain and feed on the fluids injected. Unfortunately, as a side-effect, his brain would wipe off itself from all the memories. The doctors guessed it was due to a reaction between the medicine and the cranium fluid.
Every morning, he would wake up as a newborn. No pain, no experience, no memories. It was not difficult for him to learn anything as his muscle memory was still there and his brain was still the brain of an adult. According to the doctors, it was also possible that the memory wipe was only superficial and Kunal might recall everything in a few days if his brain wasn’t doing the everyday cleaning.
In the initial days, they would leave the place as it was the last night but Kunal wouldn’t identify anything and would simply tear away the papers before starting afresh. It was hard for him to value the stories until he learned to speak and write which usually happened by late afternoon.
His mom and dad started picking up these stories every night from his desk and kept them as souvenirs – proof that their son was not gone, even if he was far from them. They even published some of them and they had found success – both fame and money. Despite his illness, Kunal was still earning enough money to take care of both himself and his parents. Kunal didn’t understand that or even know that but his parents hoped that one day, this cycle will break and their son will find out that he is a beloved author.
The room was cleaned and everyone got out. Kunal’s parents went to sleep at their house which was nearby. The next morning, they were back, looking at their son who was just waking up.
Kunal opened his eyes and looked at the world with marvel.