The Interview

Exactly for two years, he’d struggled hard for this day. It was the day of his interview. His first job interview. As he had no money to take a cab or an auto, he took the train to KR Puram railway station, and, from there, decided to walk to the venue for the interview. If he’d some extra money to spend, he would’ve taken an auto from near the station. It was afternoon. And he walked along the pavement, habitually counting the crosses he went past. Then, as he went past the second cross, the interview letter crossed his mind and he pulled it out of his jacket's pocket and checked the date, murmuring the digits. He returned it to his pocket. How many times had he verified the date? He couldn’t remember. But he could remember he’d verified it innumerable times. The letter crossed his mind again. Now as he was going to take it out, the aching sensation suddenly caught his head and increased in less than no time. His heart started pumping more heavily and faster than before. What was he really suffering from? The village doctors couldn’t diagnose it. He’d suffered from this syndrome for almost two years. His fear, anxiety and frustration became fuel to this problem. He used to do the same thing again and again though he knew it was perfect. He used to revise his paper in exam again and again until the time was over, and after returning home, he couldn’t sleep at night with the fear of not submitting the exam paper properly. He used to stay awake all night too. Did this problem influence his behaviour? Maybe. Maybe not. He started walking faster than before. He remembered the letter again and felt the sensation. Now it returned with more intensity. He pressed his temples. No relief. He pulled out the letter and checked the date. A corner of the letter was torn. He didn’t know when it’d been torn. Suddenly, like a whirlwind, his bag struck his mind. He’d kept all his documents in the bag. But where was the bag? He wanted to cry, but no sound came out of his mouth. He’d left the bag in the train. A pain clutched at lower abdomen, and his heart pumping furiously, he began to run towards the railway station, forgetting everything except his bag, and not stopping, though his throat went dry. Then, as he went past the fifth cross, his knees buckled, and he fell on his stomach. He lost his consciousness.

Author Notes: Looking forward to your comments. Should I continue this story?

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