Observation on an incurable illness

Death, I imagine, will be a lot like having the common cold. The body will have varying temperatures from head to toe, with the toe being as cold as a cucumber and the head being as hot as a jalapeno pepper. The senses, all compromised. Sense of taste refusing to commit whether that is a cucumber or a jalapeno pepper. Sense of hearing converted into one long whooshing sound past the ear – I pretend it’s the sea – and speech, that would be a hoarse stumble over the alphabets ‘el’ and ‘ess’.

Buried under a mountain of fluffy sheets that feel like lead sheets on the body and surrounded by an avalanche of used tissues, the soul with common cold, like the soul about to leave a dead body, will scoff at the chicken soup. The whooshy silence beating out a whooshy message ” Let go…let go…let go. There is nothing to be done here. Let go… let go…let go”

Of course a common cold is not as permanent as death and even though you may feel like you have been back from brink, it teaches you a valuable lesson.

The next time a friend suggests that you try out his newly installed steam room, just after you have tried out his newly installed temperature controlled swimming pool, do not bob your head up and down in glee. Do not do a ‘yay’ and venture in without so much as a modest towel. Because unlike steam, you cannot wipe off a common cold. There is no cure. And its lurking out there, for just such a victim – the one who is on holiday and enjoying it a wee bit too much!

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