Had I

"I was born on the 13th of May, which means that roughly sometime during the second week of august the year before, had my father pulled out in time, I would never have been born. Again, had I refused to be born as a living,crying child and instead been pulled out a stillborn, like the ones that shatter the spirits and wrench the hearts of parents around the world even as I speak, I would not have grown up to know the love of my parents, my sister and my friends. Ten years later, roughly in the month of December, had a good Samaritan not taken me to the hospital when he saw me lying concussed on the road in a fit, I would not be alive to realize how arrogant I had become and to understand that love is in helping someone in need. Had I been among the 13 who were killed in a freak shootout in my school, I would never have known the girl I was to fall in love for the first time and live to see the day when, on being dumped and rejected, I accepted to take my first puff of cigarette, thus beginning a life long dependence on the wretched being. Had I never smoked that cigarette, I would never have come to live among men who thought of women as objects which were made for the sole purpose of the fulfillment of their desire, and, immature as I was, become one of them    and lure an innocent soul into believing I loved her. Had I had the courage to go and tell the girl I was actually in love with how much I cared for her and how much I regretted my past and how much I wanted to be better, I  would probably not have had to see her in someone else's arm and crest-fallen start a multiple affair with Rum,Gin and Whisky. Had I not kept going back to my triad to fill my hollow cocoon with more emptiness, I would not have met the person who introduced me to a new world:- of dreams, possibilities and excitement, he said : of smuggled medicines, syringes and brown boiling liquid, it was. Had I not told my parents to leave me alone and my sister to not continuously bug me with her concern for me, which I wrongly interpreted as her interference into my life, I would probably have had my sister to cry along on all those lonely nights, when those whom i called friends disappeared like smoke does upon lingering awhile, or my mother to hug me and my father to hold me and tell me everything could be set right. Instead, I hugged the ghostly apparition of myself, tangible and tenacious, and listened to the walls whispering into my ear-'It's over '.Had the shopkeeper been, as the law in my country requires, responsible enough to ask of me a police permission instead of happily handing over a .32 Colt by accepting a few thousand rupees over the price, I would not have found myself in my room alone, at least a thousand kilometers from my family which was frantically searching for me thinking what mistake they had made, wondering whether i should shoot from the right or the left. Had i grown up, like most kids do, as either right handed or left handed, I would probably have shot myself then and there. Had I not been ambidextrous, I would not have had to taste the metal on the barrel as I thrust it into my mouth, sweating, swearing and shivering. Had I not been brave and stupid enough to pull that trigger thinking it was the only solution left, I would not have become this floating consciousness staring at my own body now gushing thick red blood like spring breaking through barren land." - he thought as he looked up unto the sky and said  - 
"I may have died but my regret lives on."
"It was not me that was to be killed. It was the regret."
Amen.