I am in a very good mood since the last two days. I am being able to acknowledge that there is something beautiful, something wonderful about every living person. Yes, I mean EVERY living person.
I know this sounds strange coming from a paranoid person like me. But I am starting to think that every person has a role to play in the world and in your story. The evil abuser, narcissist, sociopath, controlling mother, abusive husband, all of them were there in your life to change you in a certain way, to take you ahead in your story.
I feel today the need to nurture the best I can see in every person I speak to. I have a feeling that it will lead to something good. Not for the person, but for me. The feeling that I don’t have to live in suspicion but can love everyone and give everyone reason to smile is very liberating.
So does this mean I want to take the risk again? I think it is more on the lines of what one friend with narcissistic personality disorder under treatment had told me. Don’t change yourself, but define your boundaries. So you will know when someone tries too hard to get past your boundary. All you would really have to do is ensure that no one gets past it. Don’t avoid, just know where to draw the line. Protect yourself but don’t avoid living because you fear getting hurt. Don’t tolerate when things turn bad, but don’t avoid the situation altogether. Just learn to raise your voice once in a while and fight for yourself.
I think these happy thoughts are a result of my good mood today 🙂 I don’t really know how long this will last, but I hope it lasts longer and brings real change in me 🙂
The bottom line is ………….. SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST ……… The ruthless truth. Crib and complain all you want, but if you don’t like something, you have to change it. There is no other way. If you don’t change it then you are just weak and nature will eliminate you. So better just decide to fight because surviving is YOUR RIGHT!
She stood on the terrace and watched the lightening strike again and again. As the rain fell heavier and heavier she allowed herself to soak in the water. Cold water trickled through her whole body. Tears mingled with the water that flowed down her face. She was beginning to shiver slightly. But she just stood that way – hands outstretched face upwards and crying like she was begging for mercy and God just roared back in reply. Tired she just closed her eyes, God would take her back with him, she didn’t belong on earth.
She started falling backward. She splashed into water and fell deeper and deeper into it. There was water all around her now, she couldn’t open her eyes , she just kept falling deeper and deeper into the water. There was no landing , no floating, the water was bottomless. she just kept falling. Then she realized that she couldn’t breathe in water. She tried but there was no oxygen flowing in. Only water. She started choking. She gasped for air and woke up.
She was on the cold stone of her terrace. She was still wet, the stone was also wet. But it had stopped raining. She had stopped crying. Her face felt sticky and filthy. She felt like a complete mess, unclean both physically and spiritually. Nothing was clean about her. Her bones were in pain. Her head was throbbing. She felt heavy and immobile. The stone was very cold but she couldn’t get up. She had lost command over her body. She couldn’t make it move. She couldn’t get up.
She started weeping again, weeping and wailing. She wanted someone to hold her hand , hug her. But she was too dirty for anyone to touch her. She was abandoned and alone.
For the pain you have done her.
She was not happy to see you,
You reminded her of her pain….
You were the cause, you were the cause of hurt for her,
You are not good,
Someone was hurt because you did not care,
I cannot smile now, because I don’t deserve the happiness,
I feel so alone, what have I done?
Help me, will you?
Accept my reason,
Tell me it is going to be good,
That by gones are by gones,
Don’t matter now,
But don’t they?
She was hurt when she saw me,
I could see it in her eyes,
The hesitation, the desire to avoid me,
She knows, that I stole what was hers,
I had not wished it,
But she knows I am the one,
It does not go down well with her,
I am such a pain,
And she is not wrong,
I deserve to be despised,
And cringe in pain……….
It was full moon. Summer. Around two in the night. The air was still. Outside the trees stood dark and still, an occasional light breeze stirring a few leaves, but you would notice it only if you were watching since a long time.
And the longer you watched the trees, the more convinced you would get that they had life, and secrets. They knew, they understood a lot of things. But for some reason they preferred to be on their own, watching from a distance, pretending innocence.
The moon shone into the room through the open window. She sat there at the window, her head resting on the palm of her right hand, elbow on the white marble window sill. Her left hand hand half hanging out of the window as if to catch invisible raindrops. In the silver moonlight, her skin otherwise dusky seemed pale and white. She sat like that in her room, door closed to shut her for the time being from what went on in the rest of the house. Her eyes watched the shadow of the leaves, on the ground three floors below, through the gap between her fingers. She was a girl of twelve.
Outside her room the voices had ceased. There was no more shouting, no more noise of breaking glass, no more whining. She felt heavy. Something inside her wanted to sob bitterly, loudly, wail through the quiet neighbourhood. But she sat still. Willing the tears to come. The sob struggled up her throat but got lost somewhere on the way before it could reach her eyes. The tears wouldn’t come.
And she continued to sit there. On the surface, her face looked calm, though her eyes glinted in the moonlight, giving away the rage that she felt within. Her eyes were now focused on the palm of her left hand. They followed the pattern of lines on it. A dark line ran down from the top left and stopped somewhere before it reached the bottom right. She couldn’t stop looking at it………………
Fresh red blood trickled out as she finished drawing a shallow slit over the line with a blade. She bent her palm a little to feel the pain – the thin red line was slowly dotted by small drops of blood till it was transformed into a thick uneven line and blood trickled down the side of her hand.
At the same time, two little drops of tears trickled down the sides of her eyes as she cringed in pain. And then she wept. Softly. Once she gasped loudly for breath. But she shut her mouth with her free hand to stifle the sound. Allowing herself only to wail softly.
For a long time she let the tears flow out noiselessly till her eyes were finally dry again — and the blood had stopped soaking the handkerchief she held against her palm.
Then she hid away the handkerchief that she would dispose off later, pulled a blanket over herself and shut her eyes to get some sleep before another miserable day would begin.
(I have reposted this from my own blog at blogspot http://www.itsnevertheend.blogspot.com)