The Floating Diary - Prelude

Vikram sat at a corner in the study room of his beloved uncle, Dr. Kedarnath Srivastava, and was scanning through the contents of the unkempt cardboard box that was stacked away inside the wooden closet. Vikram Srivastava, a 32-year-old software professional, was the only kin of the late Dr. Kedarnath Srivastava, who had passed away four days ago, after a severe heart attack.

Dr. Kedarnath was a medical practitioner and lived alone in his little bungalow in Dehradun. He was single and was of 75 and lived a solitary life after retirement. Throughout his life he had been working as a doctor for the World Health Organization and had traveled all across the world to treat ailing patients. His job allowed him to fulfil two of his biggest desires, providing treatment to the despondent and traveling to different places of the world. Vikram was his favorite nephew and throughout his childhood Vikram had admired his uncle as an adventurer and globetrotter with a heart of gold. Vikram has grown up listening to the stories of his diverse experiences and had remained enthralled by their magnanimity.

Vikram had come to Dehradun for the rites of Dr. Kedarnath and after the formalities got over, he sat alone in his favorite uncle’s study-room and churned his memories while fiddling with the old man’s belongings. As he came upon the cardboard box (with the label FROM THAILAND, YEAR 2004), Vikram felt inquisitive and decided to check its contents. Vikram knew that during the Tsunami of 2004, Dr. Kedarnath was part of the medical emergency team who traveled to the western coasts of Thailand for the rescue operations. The box contained various things, stuff that most people would consider trash, like a broken showpiece, a dysfunctional wristwatch, a dirty jewelry box etc. Vikram recalled that his uncle always collected things (that interested him) during his trips as a doctor in the Disaster Management Team on behalf of the World Health organization. He used to say that these mementoes reminded him of how precious life is and how we should cherish it dearly.

Presently, Vikram took out what seemed to him like a personal diary. Such things have become pretty rare, ever since the advent of social media, and Vikram felt interested in it. He sat down on a sofa and opened the diary. In his imagination he saw Dr. Kedarnath walking through the watery debris, left by the Tsunami in Thailand, and suddenly discovering this diary floating astray. Vikram paused his imagination and turned his eyes towards the pages of the diary and began to read…

I am Pravin Singhania and this is my diary. There is a reason why I am writing down my name here like this. Moreover, all the memoirs in this journal are intentionally kept undated. Let me explain the reason for the above two inconsistencies. I am 36 years old now and am petty well-settled in life. My parents have passed away a few years ago and I live alone, under the supervision of my aunt Padma, who has always loved me unconditionally. Financially, I am very sound (thanks to the wealth earned by my Baba), and am an eligible bachelor who can tie the knot soon. However, something happened two months back, something that has changed my whole world! I was detected with an extreme rare infection that has affected my brain cells. As per the doctors, there is no cure to it. Even though the disease will not kill me, but it will do worse! Doctors say that every passing day, a fragment of my memory will vanish! Within a year, all my memories will get erased, just like a complete disk cleanup of a computer! With this, I will forget everything I have ever known. I will forget my family, my belongings, my knowledge and whatever is stored within the little grey cells of my mind. In short, I will forget me!

My world came crashing with this news, but I have managed to keep my composure. Even though my relatives, especially my aunt Padma, would be able to reboot the technical details about my relatives, my family etc., none would ever be able to reinstall the basis human in Pravin again! This is the challenge of my disease. As per doctors, even though close relatives can remind a person of earthly things, the loss of the human personality makes the patients devoid of emotions and like a vegetable, a person without knowledge of himself. To fight this situation, I hatched a plan. I decided to capture me in this diary, within this one year. In every journal, I shall write an experience that defines a part of me, my feelings, my emotions, my anger, my hatred, my love and my grief. When I will forget myself completely, I shall read this diary and discover ME again. So without wasting further time, let me begin.