Wednesday, 31 December 2014

Of New Beginnings and Ends...

It's that time of the year again when everyone is talking about new beginnings. But how do you begin a new chapter when you haven't ended the previous one? Can you just skip ahead without any real closure? I know I can't.

I find it very difficult to say good-byes. I wonder what I would tell you before we parted again. Would I just shake your hand and watch you walk away, without looking back even once at me as I stand seething in pits of bitter unrequited love, or would I actually open my mouth and let those years of bottled up feelings flow?

Some partings are well-made but one reason why I have never learned to say good-bye to you is because you seem to hang on in almost all of my moments. Even if we don't speak for weeks, each morning when I open my eyes, I feel your presence - or rather it is the awareness of your absence that stirs me from my slumber. Even at night, while I am asleep, you do not leave me alone; you creep into the crevices of my dreams. It's been so long; yet I don't know why you still hold such a special place in my heart.
There was a point in time when I finally decided it was time to forget you. I had to let you go. That pursuit made me search for fragments of your being in the people around me. When I realized it was impossible to recreate something that had felt so perfect, I tried redefining perfection. Alas, I horribly failed! I tried again, and then again, but each time, I failed even more.

Everyone's life has a story but you were the first person who was actually interested in reading my tale. You helped me discover myself; and, in your own simple way, showed me what it truly meant to feel cared for. You helped me become a better person. No matter how corny it sounds, you are the reason why I smile, laugh and believe in unconditional love.

Every lovely thing has an ugly side and, unfortunately, things were no different in our case. You shattered me. I single-handedly picked up the shards of my broken self and tried to fix myself. With a little help, I was restored to my previous state; but now that I had experienced what it felt like to be loved and looked after, it became difficult for me to cope. I became distrustful and swore that I would never rely on one person again. You taught me a valuable lesson on the importance of self-reliance but I still haven't mastered the lesson completely. One day, however, I hope to get to a place where I will not depend on anyone but myself for my happiness. Someday, I hope to emerge a stronger and more independent version of me.

But does that mean that I should just say good-bye and let you slip from my hands? Each time this question pops in my head, my inner voice screams "NO" because you felt (and still feel) like you're the best thing that could have ever happened to me.

It's the end of this year but I know I am still holding on to you. The next time we meet and it's time for us to say good-bye, I shall do so - I do not know yet if it will be a permanent one or temporary but I shall hold on to the illusion that our next meeting is just around the corner; and comfort myself with the belief that our story will never really have to come to a real ending.

Monday, 15 December 2014

Hanging By A Thread

"If you were watching a movie and found that it was utterly ridiculous, would you judge someone for leaving the theatre in the middle?" she asked.
"Of course not," he replied. "In fact if the movie was really bad, I'd walk out myself and judge those people who remained inside!"
"Then, why do we judge those who choose to commit suicide because they find life unbearable?"

At that time, he had not answered her question. But today, as he stared at the lifeless body in front of him, he thought about all the conversations they had had. And about the ones they hadn't.

Days passed and turned into months. But he was still woken up every night by her dreams. It didn't matter whether they were good or bad, because they hurt all the same. People still asked him about her. Few asked him what it was like without her. He never knew how to respond to those questions. Going through life without her was not something he had wanted to do. He had never wanted to live without her. And without her, he wasn't really living...

She was the person who'd made his life wonderful. The guilt that he had failed to do the same for her plagued him mentally and emotionally. When someone leaves the way she did, everyone wants to point a finger. Everyone wants to know why. And she didn't leave a "why" because she left behind no note. It was in her nature to leave things unsaid.

He often blamed himself for her death. Well-wishers told him that it wasn't his fault but he knew it was. He knew he could have told her to hang in there but he didn't. He wished he could apologize to her - tell her that he was sorry for not being able to help her. Perhaps, that would take the guilt away. But she was not in front of him and he was tired of speaking to her imaginary spirit.

He felt that his life had lost all meaning and purpose. He was doing nothing constructive. Sometimes, while driving his car, he wondered how easy it would be to just lose control. He stared at the sleeping-pills his father took every night and wondered how many it would take. It would be so easy for him to end things the way she had. But then, he wouldn't want to make anyone in the world feel the way he had felt after her untimely death. He realized that he needed to hold on just to make life bearable for himself and for those around him. She was gone and while he would never forget her, he realized he would also have to remember his old self that he had forgotten, somewhere along the way. Even though he felt dead, in actuality, he was not. He would have to move on because life (with or without her) was all about learning, loving and being alive.