I felt the surge of fear rising through my insides.
I expected its arrival, didn’t I?
It figured it’s way up to my chest, pounding rhythmically with every gasp of air I took.
Everything’s fine. I’m prepared for this.
It seemed as though I was on a boat facing fury of the waves, as depicted in one of my favourite movies, “Life of Pi”.
It’s okay. It’s part of life…
In the hypnagogic state, I struggled to regain consciousness. After several rounds of tossing, a tear-stained stuffed toy duck at the edge of the bed greeted me. Reality struck me hard in the face there and then. It’s not a nightmare. Unknowingly, fresh tears slipped down to my chin.
We don’t appreciate what we have until it’s gone. It’s true. Undermining the significance of something that we assume will be around forever, is like buying a bunch of regret tickets with no refunds. The tickets become a poignant reminder of how undeserving I am.
Time heals all wounds. No it doesn’t. It merely brushes off all the dirt and covers the exposed. It isn’t capable of addressing the mental scars accumulated by innumerable battles throughout the days’ minutes and seconds.
I plastered on a coerced smile realising the hopelessness of this situation.
It has no point.
Their accusatory remarks were aimed to destroy. They were meant to kill the last of any living hope left in me.
It doesn’t get through them.
Deeply embedded was a huge rock of traditional values, chained tightly with socially accepted norms. They had gone all lengths to validate a point, and eradicating even the slightest doubt to their beliefs.
It was a futile effort of mine trying expression, even with an objective-assured listening session. Or maybe I didn’t try hard enough. Or maybe it was a rock made of titanium.
I grabbed the mask of assurance and shoved it onto my face.
It’s going to be a great day.
Stifling in the humid air, I trudged across the road. The fervent sun embraced every corner of the street.
You’ve come so far. Hang on.
The sheer laughter of a baby boy. An elderly couple’s warm embrace. A tourist’s delighted face. I lost it there.
Up next, the mask of anxiety.
Three different experiences. One conclusion.
Such is Life.
In pursuit of developing my confusing thoughts into readable sentences.