D'bhai, I am not the girl I was around 20th November last year. That much I am sure. I am not sure about anything else. Right now, I don't even remember that moment of realization, about which I wanted to write here...and then got reluctant. But for that moment D'bhai, it was love alright...I didn't mistake it...I couldn't have. It was real love that brought out real tears and real resolve, resolve which I couldn't keep finally, because I am a selfish, weak-minded girl.
And then, D'bhai, how much more truth can there be about my life, except that I have wasted it. I just don't stand a chance anywhere, not at friendship, not at love, because a dead person is simply not accepted anywhere. I have to accept that I shall never be loved, and I have to accept that I am not even allowed to love. I am not even allowed to care selflessly. Such a laughing stock I am that nobody has any trust in me. No one who has known me, would like to associate with me and become a mockery.
You know D'bhai, I never wrote about the neighbor who had just come over to advise about the driver and told his own experience. In a perfectly calm voice he described, how, on the eve of his final exams, of a course he had opted leaving his job aside, and at a time when he had just got his license, he had to drive a dying wife to the hospital - with a dead child in her womb. It was the scariest story I have ever heard. And he spoke about it in such a matter of fact way. I wanted to curse myself for thinking, why the couple doesn't yet have a baby.
I am a different person D'bhai. I feed the mother doggy knowing very well that the little milk she has might not keep her puppies alive. And it is so cold outside. I care for my friend knowing that it might not help him in any way. I live on knowing that life can be very very elusive. I am tired, I am weak, I cry myself to sleep almost every other night...happiness seems a thing of past. Some scars never heal...
And then, D'bhai, how much more truth can there be about my life, except that I have wasted it. I just don't stand a chance anywhere, not at friendship, not at love, because a dead person is simply not accepted anywhere. I have to accept that I shall never be loved, and I have to accept that I am not even allowed to love. I am not even allowed to care selflessly. Such a laughing stock I am that nobody has any trust in me. No one who has known me, would like to associate with me and become a mockery.
You know D'bhai, I never wrote about the neighbor who had just come over to advise about the driver and told his own experience. In a perfectly calm voice he described, how, on the eve of his final exams, of a course he had opted leaving his job aside, and at a time when he had just got his license, he had to drive a dying wife to the hospital - with a dead child in her womb. It was the scariest story I have ever heard. And he spoke about it in such a matter of fact way. I wanted to curse myself for thinking, why the couple doesn't yet have a baby.
I am a different person D'bhai. I feed the mother doggy knowing very well that the little milk she has might not keep her puppies alive. And it is so cold outside. I care for my friend knowing that it might not help him in any way. I live on knowing that life can be very very elusive. I am tired, I am weak, I cry myself to sleep almost every other night...happiness seems a thing of past. Some scars never heal...
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