Rising into a Fall

I sat here in the middle of nowhere, my feet jammed on the brake pedal, willing to let go off it any second to put my throbbing heart to rest. This cliff, which watches over 5000 feet of uncertainty can revaluate the certainty of the script of my fate and it wouldn’t hurt an inch of my being. I’d delve into the realm of dust and bask in the glory of nothingness and my so called free spirit shall really be set free. It often baffles me that we are led to blindly believe in the flair of every course of action being pre-destined while we fail to realize that it is in reality our choice which instructs the course of destiny. Destiny is merely a concept which unwinds the complexity of life for the very simplistic beings. However, the complexities cannot be negated by believing in something which is an open-ended aspect of controversy and have no reference to the context.

The reservoir of their time together flashed in front of her eyes like a kaleidoscope of memories and she knew that it was sufficient for her to take her final breaths with a smile – the cobblestone streets, their first kiss in the middle of the lush fields in Scotland, the scent of his musk overwhelming her senses, the adrenaline associated with his thoughts and emotions, the light reflected in his ocean blue eyes capable of illuminating the darkest of the imaginative fears and that crackling laughter to always take her breath away. Her eyes are tightly shut and jaws ferociously clenched with her arms pressed against the steering of her very first Porsche. It could not have been more perfect to let go of her only true belonging on her own terms surrounded by commodities which meant the most to her entirety. This car she sat in was the product of the proceedings left of her savings account she mounted while working as a bartender during her time at the university. The cliff was where Aaron, her high school sweetheart broke up with her, leading her to Frasier. Despite of all the heartache and trivialness attached with the unexpected breakup with Aaron, she knew it would have been impossible for her to call it quits if Aaron wouldn’t have been brave enough to address the concerns in their relationship, hence risking the existence of Frasier in her life. Frasier was her favourite memory of all, and the only risk ‘she ran by choosing her own terms and conditions was cracking his heart open. Perhaps, she was hopeful that he of all people would understand given he was the only person who understood her insides as if he co-existed within her.

I think Mother will be very unhappy with this choice in particular. My brain tells me that it may take Mother a lifetime to absolve my actions of sins she thinks only exist because of her faith in religious beliefs. It astounds me how she fails to understand that the Divine Force, commonly known as God if It even exists, and is the Provider for all of us then all It would wish for us is to choose happiness and therefore, my happiness is in letting go of the threads that deeply connect me with the circle of life. Father will be disappointed in me and I will no more be his champ. Finally, Uriel can seek the validation from Father that he believed was merely impossible because I stood as a rock-hard obstruction in his way. Father will appreciate for the very first time that Uriel didn’t turn out like me despite of him consistently breathing down Uriel’s neck to follow in my footsteps. I reckon all I will ever want to tell Father, if I ever could, is that I’d have a lifetime wasted if I choose to just suffocate my existence in the air which reeks of violence, hypocrisy and judgmental beliefs tainting the individuality, which is my human body over a vessel for something extremely sensitive and substantial: my soul. I believe it will pain my soul the most if Father even for a second will doubt his position of letting me be a free bird. If my decision to choose an eternity sooner than later will tarnish his belief that he should have listened to Mother and will admittedly give into her “I said so”, then every tear that moistens his cheek will be a stab tearing away at the base of my soul. These concerns have me second doubt my choices; if what I believe happens to dissect the core of not only the most important beings to me but also my soul even if it were to exist in its most natural state.

The most common of misconceptions to be construed with respect to her choice would be labelling her, some of which will stand out for self-explanatory reasons; the most pivotal one being selfish. A broken smile hatched at the curve of her mouth as she wondered if they really understood what it meant to be self-centred. Perhaps, they knew nothing about the philosophy of life, whose esse are in opposition to the biology of life; the latter of which they understand but the former of which their functional brains will find difficult to perceive. However, if she really believed in the surrender or abandonment as the ultimate salvation, she wouldn’t have waited all these years living on the edge given she was merely eight when it was past her head that the world will never be able to crack the intricacies of a human brain which for her was an utmost pleasure. It was her refuge from the brutality of humanity. She felt a stab of excitement and a pang of guilt concurrently.

“Follow your heart, Nora. It will lead you to your dreams. Trust your intuition, it facilitates self-discovery and inspires positive change. Be yourself; choose each day as an opportunity to better yourself and don’t forget to love yourself, love”, her father’s voice echoed in her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. The man did an exceptional job with her, preaching to her that being a misfit was as typical as the ways of a traditionalist. He was a protective father, like any other father, however he wouldn’t do injustice to the extraordinary his daughter brought to the world which filled him with sheer delight and pride. She pressed her propped arms against the steering wheel blaring the horns of the car to silence the doubts; she was struggling with the pendulum that swung at a pace faster than her heartbeat between her choice and their voices.

I have never seen Mother and Father have a similar opinion on a human before but Frasier was an exception. He won their hearts in their very first meeting with him. He was an absolute charmer. He helped Mother bake banana bread and blueberry muffins after lunch and set the table at the patio for the evening tea. He went to play golf with Father after the tea and returned swamped in advice on ways to improve his game. Father and Mother loved him so much in the matter of just an evening that Father had the hotel he was staying at cancel his stay with them and he ended up crashing in the guest room in our basement. What was there not to love about him?

When the home had snoozed that night, the night-owls they happened to be, they tip-toed their way into the patio to gaze at the starry sky. Frasier slipped his arm around her waist, gently pulling her closer and brushed the corner of her bottom lip with his thumb. He motioned for them to lay flat on their backs on the grass, his hand still clasping her waist ever so lightly. She inched closer and rested her head against his chest and the sound of his heartbeat felt like the wind chimes over the ripple of the ocean breeze calling her home. The silence in the air was golden. After a couple of minutes, he rolled over to lay on his belly slipping her head in the palm of his hand and the other arm snugged around her. He smiled his mischievous smile and the look in his eyes said it all. He moved closer and it felt like that the starlight had dimmed just for their moment. He pressed his lips against hers for not more than a few seconds when she managed to rid herself from his hold and dashed to the main entrance of the house. He chased after her and they crashed in the guestroom for the longest time, watching Netflix and sipping on the bottle of bubbly he got her parents just a day before. She brushed his knuckles while his fingers were laced with hers and he didn’t realize when he dozed off with his head perched on her shoulder. She pecked on his cheek, pulled the covers over him, tucked him in bed and sneaked out of the guest room, making the least amount of sound and motion. She laid in her bed wide awake staring at the blank canvas of her room ceiling, thinking to herself that what was it that she did to be fortunate enough to deserve someone like Frasier in her life, given humans usually weren’t her cup of tea. The thought of his chivalry put an insomniac to sleep that night and the very same thought shall today set the spirit of a wild caged soul free.

I don’t feel the need to leave a few words that perhaps will lurk in the lives of my people, serving as an excruciating reminder and the queer feelings that will be associated with it will only serve to defeat the purpose of slipping away as invisibly as possible in the realms of eternity. It will merely create a ripple effect of affliction, impacting the hearts I cherish the most to ache in grief of something symbolic of a celebratory cause. I believe my silence can speak volumes while my words may only serve to resurrect the essence of my being. This may commonly be misunderstood as selfish but I am rooting for the greater good here. However, sometimes, just sometimes silence is just as misinterpreted as words and I fear being misunderstood for making a bold choice yet again.

She wasn’t one of those who left their business half-done. She always has to have the last word.

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Author’s Note: With two very renowned names committing suicide this month, I felt it was very important for me to publish this piece of prose I have written a while ago. The background of this prose is a conversation I landed in with a bunch of peers  at a lunch a couple of months ago regarding what motivates suicide and how it is rightly ‘illegal’ on a social as well as religious account. It broke my heart that day to witness how ignorant we are even as an educated lot to not be able to acknowledge that each human mind paints and processes the taste of pain and this world uniquely and we cannot assemble any generalization when it comes to a human brain and heart. It failed me to know that they think that suicide is selfish and an attention seeking stunt; I was appalled by the audacity with which my peers so conveniently declared that suicide is usually an accident and a person never intends to take away their life but it is just a cry for help. It may be true in some cases but like I said before, we should refrain from making generalizations about such a serious issue and acknowledge that each human brain may have gone through ultimately a lot to even consider it to be a cry for help. 

It is my humble request to play your part in embracing and spreading this message that mental health is as important, if not more, as your physical health. I have worked with groups promoting mental health awareness and believe you me when I say that we all have heard and read sufficient life stories to gather something as simple as this: life is often unpredictable and pain seldom times unbearable. At the end of the day, we are only human. 

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Autumn and Spring

She paused. He resumed. She was speechless. He offered explanations. She expected the best. He prepared for the worst. She was ignorant. He reciprocated kindness. She was the aura of Autumn. He believed her to be the glory of Spring. In this delusional world of calamity and hypocrisy, she knew he’d bow down to her altar every single day with faith in his heart, desire in his soul, light in his eyes and a prayer on his lips. She knew him to be an absolute non-believer before he began worshipping her inevitably invincible flaws. While he was merely a sculpture made from clay and sent to Earth, it was her that breathed life into his soulless existence. She was his religion, his temple and the dawn of hope serving as an anchor for his bruised soul drenched in sin and sorrow.

She thought to herself if the Lord would detest her for letting His creation believe in the apparent mightiness of another flawed being. However, her demons roared louder than the voice of her conscience, “Didn’t the Lord Himself proclaim that those who worship others do so albeit in an improper way?”

He had unknowingly found the will of his heart while she had found yet another prey.

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The taste of love, I tell you, is lethal.


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A Blast From The Past (The Taste of Unwanted Emotions)

“You are not perfect but you are what I want.”
I was told by the extra beings and the babbling mouths that not everything which is desired by the heart will become your destiny. I very politely had always begged to differ. Everything that I had ever wanted, I could achieve it be that due to my ‘go get it, girl’ attitude or the audacity (or foolishness as some would like to call it) to take everything that had been thrown my way as a challenge. Hence, I wind down the road with my hands in the air and the flaring fighting spirit planting green flags at various check-posts of my life but here I am now, clueless of the red flag in my hand. I must jab it straight through my heart and this time around, I am scared to death of the nerve-racking trail of reality that may follow. I am a pro at fixating minds and getting what I want but how do I turn a heart around? I can fool the brain but the domain of heart has never belonged to the box of my skill-set. I had always kept a safe distance from emotions and dramas involving the heart but I had no idea I would fall straight on my face with you, putting my heart at stake and my brain on standstill mode. I am a survivor to the bone but you have me doubt my survival instincts.

“You can’t stay, babe but neither can you leave. I wouldn’t be the same man without you.”
It is so convenient for you to bring me to a crossroad and make decisions for us in your favour. Have you ever thought how it feels like to un-want a soul that you had wanted since an eternity? Perhaps, highly unlikely. You have been playing the accusing and blaming game and I have been trying my best to cope with your tantrums but I am as helpless as you are. The other day you bawled your eyes out in my passenger seat and it killed me to watch those tears escape your eyes. However, have you ever thought that I was there to wipe them off your cheeks but who will do that for me when my heart will admit to its loss? How can someone who had come so far with you and believes to have fit you so perfectly, even better than your favourite sweater, would so ridiculously like to push his dream away? How can you not see what I see? The never-ending thunderstorms before the short-lived rainbows. How can you not feel what I feel? That our souls may have found their eternal homes in each other but they don’t belong together. How can you pretend to be ignorant to the hurricane of my emotions? How can you turn a blind eye to the heartache which will leave its trails permanently in the territory of my heart? Why do you ensure that everything is always about you? Perhaps, we would have been too perfect together; our flaws would have blended together only to strengthen our failings to the best of their capacity and we would have given birth to mere perfection. Therefore, pity us, perfection doesn’t exist in this world and so can’t we, babe.

“How did you get so lucky with me – what would you do without me?”
Things have never been simple between us. It was never a straight line or a black and white sheet for us. We accommodated the shades of grey and I am not the person to be acquainted with grey and put my sense of self in jeopardy. However, black and white or grey, the bond we shared was inexplicable and unfathomable in all its glory. It made me curious at times, the mystery behind it all, but then I wondered, nothing about us was clichéd anyway and this in turn, stripped my ego and rebellion bit by bit, ensuring that I made exceptions for you without you even asking for them. I found my soulmate in you and as much as I wanted to deny it for the longest period, deep down I had always believed it. I’d fall and you’d be there to catch me. We had our highs and lows, quarrels and passion, good and bad days, hatred and love, challenges and opportunities and essentially, it was us against the world: being an army of two. One will complete the spaces left by the other and not utter a word like it all came so organically to us. It didn’t take an ounce of effort to withhold the magic. However, now you want to deny us the magic of our might when all along I had believed you to be the kind of magic which had invigorated me to dream beyond infinite possibilities. You want to be a variable to my algebraic equation of life when all this time you had been a constant. This is your battle and as much as I want to hold you down, I can not. As tempting as it may seem to impose myself on you, I ought to allow you the space to set yourself free and tame the imprudence of your wild spirit. Perhaps, you must contribute to your own doom and I should patiently and heart-wrenchingly watch you do it because what I see now, you will only see it a lifetime later. Nevertheless, I know that in time you will see that we were all we ever needed.

“You are a bloody coward. I have never come this close to considering the institution of forever working for me nor have I considered my lifespan being laid out with a man without dreading it.”
Forever is, perhaps, a concept of idealism. If we are not in ourselves ideal for each other, how can an ideal concept in its entirety work for us? Life is brutal and desperate but you haven’t felt any despair, misery and melancholy to such an extent so as to know the savagery and atrocities that this world is capable of inducing on mankind every day. This is merely a matter of heart, babe; people suffer for something as basic as a human right to life. My life has revolved around you as much as yours have revolved around me. If you came close to considering your forever with me after a forever itself, then it will take you another forever to realize that you don’t spend a forever compromising on something that had been ingrained in you or something that defines your individuality. I can’t sacrifice the man I am for the heart that beats in my chest and I most definitely cannot in my right mind ever allow myself to let you be smothered for the heart that beats in my chest. There is a very thin line between courage and foolishness; one can easily be mistaken for the other. My sanity will curb your insanity. My rationality will serve to your irrationality. My balance will counteract your imbalance. My normalcy will protect your rebellion. What is coward for you is my attempt to save you.

“If I were you, I would never let me go.”
I am a difficult person but not a bad person. I am stubborn but not manipulative; egotistic but not selfish. I may be complex but not twisted; may be cold-blooded but not ruthless; may be bold but not reckless. I am not everything good but I am certainly not everything bad. Since, there is no way I can have your name written in the will of my destiny, I will live with it seared on my heart.

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Self Deception

She was broken. Her brokenness wasn’t terminal but she assumed the damage to be fatal.  She believed that she had no choice and she confided in the only option available to her: breathing. She gave up on her dreams and began fighting this brutal world for the mere sake of survival. Every day was a struggle and eventually she didn’t care if she won or lost. She was trying her best to figure a way to survive but she didn’t bother living her precious dreams. She didn’t blame anybody but herself because it was her choices that led her to live a life which was apparently just a lie.

There was not much left to her existence. She was a moving pile of bones obliged to put up a show for the world to ensure the spectators that she was not odd – that she was one of them. This was another of her many choices: to shake hands with her demise. It didn’t take her long to skilfully master the art of faking (i.e. living a lie) which was an essential requirement to be accepted in her new world. Her mind was constantly occupied with what people thought of her and she moulded herself into an object of desire. Not too long after, she became oblivious to the distinction between the truth (real) and a lie (fake) and her plan ‘to fool the world and survive’ backfired. She was caught fooling herself.

There was no hope left anymore. Although she was breathing but she had given up on life long time ago. Precisely when did she give up? She didn’t give up when she felt broken but she gave up when she fell victim to the trap of this world. Firstly, when she succumbed to the appalling torture of allowing herself to be judged and secondly when she lived to feed off the need for approval. She was not meant to live a life by merely blindly following the rules written in the book but instead she chose to not use the higher powers of her mind and spirit to evaluate and challenge those rules to better herself and the world.

While she could have been the change, she chose to refuse herself the opportunity of healing this world. She chose to refuse herself the right to dream and live for herself. She chose to give in to social pressure. However, she is not alone. There are many out there like her and these souls don’t even realize when they have stopped living for themselves for they fail to see the strength of their vision and the power in their action.

SD


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The World of Labels

After a sickening eternity, rainbows lingered in her eyes. The violet emerged ever so charismatically in her cold grey eyes when she imagined a life beyond her cottage in the woods. The fireworks lightened her dark lonely heart with sparks of bright hope and vibrant dreams when she realized that she could finally fly in the indigo sky. She was unhappy to leave her nest and folks behind but at the same time exhilarated to step out of the shadows to embrace a new beginning. She was tempted by the world of unknowns and danger. Little did she know, life outside her cottage was a vicious trap but she wouldn’t understand unless she became a victim of its sweet pain.

The reality of her existence boomed with the blues of Sea-Holly as she was warmly welcomed by the place she had only dared to explore in her dreams. The buildings stood taller than the pine trees that surrounded her cottage in the woods. She noticed that the sun shone differently in this so-called flawless world as if it vacillated whether to share its precious light with the gloomy creatures. The stars didn’t sparkle with their usual pearly white light at night and she was taken aback by the unusual differences she had observed in such a short time span. Wasn’t Nature supposed to be same all across the planet? Pushing her thoughts aside, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath trying to absorb all she could of her enthralling yet mysterious green surroundings.

Days passed by and her pale yellow aura projected that she was utterly excited and hopeful for the future since she had recently embarked on a spiritual journey. Although in reality, the palpable excitement she had once felt about her life had been diminishing slightly. It was not that she wanted to return to her nest but this thriving world didn’t appeal to her as much as before. As she began pondering over the matter, the stunning orange sky took over her senses. She gave up in the arms of an enchanting evening hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

Time taught her well. The land of her dreams was painted with red. They loved each other and fought with the same people they cared for. They plucked the blooming flowers and stole the delight of Nature to decorate their houses but at the same time preached to be environmental friendly. They complained about the cold weather in winters and about the heat in summers. They were capable of differentiating between right and wrong yet chose to favor and support the corrupt. They killed to enforce peace. They had labelled everything from the color of their skin to the blood in their veins. They treated their fellow beings differently based on their gender, profession, religion and race. They bullied the weak and hated to be reminded that they were in the same shoes not too long ago. They lived in the world of gadgets where they text-messaged often and rarely spoke. They shared everything on the social media in the name of ‘sharing is caring’ but in reality, the idea of sharing was almost unknown to them. They were never contented and always yearned for more. These creatures were not only different from her folks in the woods but also were complex. Their actions often contradicted their words as their minds did their hearts.

The rainbows in her eyes faded as this multicolored world of labels stomped over her dreams and awoke her to a harsh reality. The truth was bitter but the lies she had been living for the past few months had been sweet. How she wished to rewind time and be unknown to all the mysteries which had been unraveled. How she wished to be a child again.

Wait; was she one of them already?

Life -I-


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The Final Farewell

While he helped them say their final goodbyes, deep down he was not prepared for this unwanted farewell. His life has revolved around her and he became frantic imagining the world being so colorless and soulless without her presence by his side. Her eyes had shone brighter than the million stars lightening the gloomy sky.The searing pain seeped through his soul when he realized that her eyes would not be able to brighten his dark days ever again. Her warm summery smile had made his heart melt and his blood ran cold thinking that his heart would freeze without her heart-warming smiles. She had been there for him at each step of the way. She had not only taught him to tame the flight of his dreams but also the world of their reality. They had been deliriously happy together and it was unbelievable that she would decide to embark on a new journey without him.

He held her hand in his hand, kissing the fingertips but not for one second had he stopped praying for a miracle. He was crying his eyes out. He was not ashamed of his tears today because he was desperately waiting for their magic to seal the moment so they could stay together for eternity. Since the past forty-five minutes, he had sought various means to communicate with her: through his tears, the melody of his voice, the tranquility in his silence and the fire in his touch. His fingers had been interlaced with hers for the longest time and he hadn’t stopped mumbling in her ear but nothing seemed to be working. It killed him a thousand deaths for every second which brought them closer to the explosion of the ticking clock. It crushed his heart to see a part of him being taken away from him so ruthlessly but he couldn’t do much about it so he begged for mercy. He felt utterly powerless against the bullet of time. He was trying his best to stop her from abandoning his world and he wouldn’t give up until the very end.

She would never wake up again and machines wouldn’t be breathing for her anymore. However, they battled the last minute of their union with courage and strength that set an example for the soldiers in the war-zone.

He had lost more than a wife today — he had lost his soul.

That touch to make it all worthwhile <3

That touch to make it all worthwhile


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Our Greatest Enemy

After a while, we will get used to this parade of so-called ‘I love you’ and there will be nothing new about us. Our mystery and chemistry will be resting in peace. There will be constant arguments about loyalty and sincerity for no reason at all. Every day will start with a quarrel and eventually we wouldn’t care if one of us is going to bed angry. Some days you will be grumpy while the other days, I will be screaming. We will be cursing and it will feel like love never existed between us. Our egos will not allow us to be apologetic and we will keep blaming each other regardless of being aware that it is nobody’s but our own fault if this life feels less like the safe haven we imagined with each other. There will only be a tug of war between us and if by chance sometimes once or twice a year (fortunately/unfortunately) we get to spend a day without picking up an argument; that will have to be a miracle. However, lets try to sort this out. Before we reach that stage when love is lost in the blur of an argument or trapped within the tick-tock of the clock, let’s love unconditionally and ‘live in the moment’. Thus no conditions and no consequences. If you can do it then love me or leave right now before we become our greatest enemy.

His forever can last a second or two,
Sometimes, not even a day get passed through,
He cradles me in his arms and I know this to be true,
His forever is our present, may it be an eternity or this passing view.

Can these clouds be my vessel to Heaven?

Can these clouds be my vessel to Heaven?


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Double Standard

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It’s not hurt that conquers my heart but it’s you. I am what my past has made me and it’s all about you – it’s all about us. The pain that comes with being a part of you is somewhat enchanting. I find my comfort in your arms. I seek my love in your eyes. I recognise myself in the purpose of your existence. It’s unbelievable that you will play a double standard game but then after all you are one of your kind – unpredictability is in your blood.

I can breath you in all day long. I can feed on the curves around your lips forever. I can watch myself in the depth of your eyes for every second left of my life. I can forgive you but not forget you. I can love you but not leave you. I can please you even at the expense of who I am but you won’t see, you won’t listen and you won’t even understand. All that I was and all that I have become is to you just another pawn in your double standard game.


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Is Your Soul Worth A Look?

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My soul feels uncomfortable in its very own body. I wonder if I am a disappointing it or choking its voice. It doesn’t communicate with me anymore in the way it used to before. Is it that I am not having sufficient solitude to entertain it? Am I embracing life that will yield only worldly pleasures or am I preparing for Hereafter?

I like to look good, who doesn’t? Perhaps, if not good, then at least presentable. Does looking good serve the reason of my existence? Should I be worried about my physical appearance or the appearance of my spirit? If I came face to face with it someday, will I be able to recognise it. Mirror is my best friend, I love to watch the young woman I am growing into but do I have the courage to watch the reflection of my soul in the mirror? I am always posing for a good picture if somebody flashes their camera in my face. This is the age of ‘Selfie’ – one can hold their cellular phone to their face and capture an incredible shot. I will like to see a ‘Selfie’ of my soul. I am told beauty lies within then why this world is chasing the material beauty that is unsustainable; something that is destined to be destroyed.

We are the nation of fools. We blindly follow. ‘Fuck’ is a casual word for adolescents; if they use it then they think they sound very modern. Another very common word, ‘Bitch’; everything can be described in today’s world with the help of these two words by people around me. Of course, there are exceptions to these cases; hence none of the subject should be taken personally. When will we open eyes and realise it is already too late to undo the damage we have caused to this beautiful planet? When will we stop bullying that quiet girl in the corner of the classroom? When will we stop this disease of Racism from corroding our unity? When will we stop hating if our hearts are capable to love abundantly? I ask this 5-year-old boy to draw a heart. He doesn’t draw the complicated biological heart with veins and blood streams but he takes out his red crayon to draw a gigantic ‘lovely’ heart on an A-4 sheet and then colour it all red. He is innocent and doesn’t know how our hearts have blackened over the years. Without any proof, you call Muslims terrorists. Without any knowledge of their Holy Book, you accuse their religion of preaching hate and war. If terrorists in this world give a bad name to Jihad, did you ever take the initiative to ‘Google’ the word ‘Jihad’? No! You didn’t because you are happy with what Media is feeding you with. You are contented to be a blind-follower. Then why don’t you invite Zombies over and let them take your brains? At least, somebody will get fed.


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For a second, I thought I lost you. Your fingers let go of my hand and your pulse plays hide and seek with me. Your eyes are shut and your face is calm as if angels have already arrived. Suddenly, I hear you mumbling..

‘Mitsy, please don’t leave me‘.

I don’t know what to do, I feel powerless, as if I am shackled in chains of self destruction. How can I let you go when you have asked me not to?

‘Darling, I am right here’, I whispered.

You hold my hand as tightly as you can but I feel nothing. Your eyes are teary but you wouldn’t say a word. Of course, you and your feminine strength! But I know, beneath this Iron Lady of mine, there is my little chunky bear who is crying and hurting and I cannot do anything about it.

‘You ate anything?’, you struggled to speak.

‘Shush, don’t you speak! You worry too much’, I smiled.

I vowed to you on our wedding day that I will be there by your side forever and will catch every one of your teardrop before it lands on your cheek. Now for the first time I have failed to fulfil my vow. As I see a teardrop moistening your cheek, I scoop it gently with my finger before it dissolves in your skin. I feel like a criminal in my own body. You are not supposed to break like this. One after the other, each day is draining you out and as much as I want to take you away from all this, I cannot. It’s difficult to believe that humans like us can become this vulnerable and incapable that we have to give up to nobody but ourselves – our very own body.

I feel sick to my stomach watching these doctors fiddle with your body like a mechanic would with an automobile. I am watching you while these doctors are trying to understand your body. Your body is complex and functions differently than mine. It is attacked by those microscopic things called germs. As a child, I always thought of these germs as a creation of the imagination of Science. Perhaps, now I stand corrected. Doctors tell me that the germs attacking you are not ordinary germs we might be affected by if we don’t take care of our hygiene. Instead they are pretty dangerous; deadly enough to change the will of your body. Now, as your body and germs fight as one, so must our spirits in this battle for life.

While these doctors are trying to do their job, you are peaceful like angels have taken you away from me. For a second I think I have lost you all over again but it’s the story of my life. Your disease is draining the life out of your system and watching you come and go is draining mine.