My Name is Not O+ve

Dear Friend, 

tomorrow if I'm dying 

and I need blood

will you spare Friday night for me? 

will you come see me 

after work or college 

in the hospital as I lay on my bed

dreading the needles and looking forward

only to your vivacious "heyyyyy" at 6:30 pm? 

will you run around the city 

looking for a type 

that matches my body 

as agressively as your search 

for alcohol on Gandhi Jayanti? 

will you arrange for some 

other friends to come and sing for me?

for some to crack jokes for me?

will you change my diaper 

as I lay frozen like a vegetable

unable to move my hands

but trusting of yours?

will you hold my hand 

even when I'm asleep

and talk to me while I dream of us 

alive, and dazed, in a city 
that doesn't reek of metro stations? 

will you run through the white walls

with cheques and paper

so my family can grieve in peace?

will you fight with the nurses

to let you see me one last time?

will you play with my dog 

cheer my parents 

and manage my Facebook profile

when I'm gone?

and while I’m on my way,
fighting my platelets,
as they fight me 

will you 
fight for me

and save me
from being reduced

to a blood group? 

                Will you? 

                Because I fucking will.