I see a damaged soul instead of seeing myself in the mirror. I see that girl, whose eyes have this far-off look when she sings. As if, she’s in some other time, some other reality, some alternate universe. I see her past and her future. She’s a broken record, a torn piece of cloth, a silver chain that lost it’s shine, a ruined shrine: what’s common, is the damage. What happened?
She was forced to grow up. She was forced to take responsibility, to be mature. But who in the world must define maturity? Is it laughing on the face of adversity? Is it, ignoring the urge to slap a misbehaving child? Is it, not crying in front of anyone and soaking your pillow when alone? What is this maturity?
I see a girl for whom the blooming flowers don’t have any significance anymore because the spring didn’t reach her inside this time around. I see a tortured head, tired eyes, a fake smile on a gloomy face. I see misery that’s self-created, monsters waiting for the warrior to strike back and a warrior with wounded pride. I see darkness with a hint of light. Only a dot perhaps. I see the sky, meeting the ocean, but too far, on the horizon. I see opportunities, just a little beyond her reach. I see life draped in the cloak of death.
To be, or not to be? And what will be
if when she ceases to be?
No, I won’t answer that. It’s, perhaps, more depressing than the post itself. When death comes, it comes. the fear isn’t of dying but of the process itself. The difficulty isn’t in living right now but in enjoying the luxuries with no or lesser effort.
I remember, once, not long ago, there was a girl I shared my room with, I called her my friend. She’s gone now. Only her memories remain. The hurt, the low moods and the occasional depressive thoughts…..
A hug from my mum would definitely make me feel better and there is a mother who can never hug her daughter again. So many people have bigger problems than I do.
I decide to be, as long as I can be. For this life, is a treasure and I, the keeper. So I decide to take life, over death. For difficulties come to make us realize that we are still alive. I’ll just have to go and find the warrior inside again. The sooner, the better.
Title: opening phrase of a dialogue Hamlet, Act III, Scene I.
By William Shakespeare