The day I gladly put this on my Facebook wall, I lost the person who I considered home. Why do some people try to find shelter in others?  What power do their words have? After all, it’s just words. You find them in books, articles, newspapers, walls, floors, every where. Why do we let ourselves to be on leash.

The death of a loved one would be less painful. We have no control over death. The person dies, we mourn, we get over, we ache for the longest time, and then one day we start laughing at the once happy memories. But having to willingly let a person go — that is another thing. In my life I have done that more than one time. It was done to me plenty of times. And then you reach an age where you think, oh you’re all grown up, matured, wrinkled, and these can’t happen any more. But we lose all senses when the silver lining grins at us, and we fall head over heels again, regreting it every time, only to end up alone and shattered.

And then you cry endless number of days. Your face swollen and red. You make plenty of lies, oh it is just a head ache, oh it is a migraine, it is a stomach pain shown on face, it is the death of a distant friend’s dog, it is the novel that you’re reading now, or photographs of childhood labour. The books that you read, the stories that you listen to, the songs that find you, the foods that you eat, the movies that you watch will all break your heart more. And then one day, after ages of hibernation, the brain decides to wake up. It shakes you up. It tries to reason with you. It lets the sun shine in. You will try to smile again. You’ll change bed covers, you’ll buy new tooth brush, you’ll change dietary habits, you’ll change your favourite colour, you’ll burn your favurite books, you’ll switch to new music artistes, and you’ll fool yourself to be on track.

Only if it were true. The pain remains no matter what you do. No amount of cigarrettes, alcohols, foods or throwing up of consumed food, shopping, shattering, hair cutting, ear piercing, will bring you out of it. The person still lives somewhere. Many number of people can still see him, touch him, talk to him, watch him, be with him. And you cannot. That hurts. And then you’ll have to bury him in a red velvet case in the bottomest part that can be found in your heart, and ensure it never pops up.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s