UNWIND

She drank in the silence to counteract the deafening crescendo that threatened to engulf her from within. This kind of thick silence that shrouded her like a wintery blanket. She drew the curtain and looked at the night sky devoid of even the slightest of moonlight. With an exasperated sigh, she laid her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. 

Often, when she couldn't sleep, she would run wild in one of her enthralling imagination. But this time she thought of a memory...
The flaring sun melted into the sky and through narrowed eyes, a seven-year-old watched as each wave kissed the shore gently. The child's little sister, who sat beside her, was intently collecting shells. How many did you collect, the child asked. 
Not enough, replied her sister. 
Are you kids having fun? 
She looked up to find her mother smiling. Her mother had the most beautiful chestnut hair she had seen and the kindest face she knew. 
There are the three most beautiful girls I know. Shall we build a sand castle now? 
Her sister looked up at their father. She had silver hair like him. 
I am done collecting shells for the day. Let's build the castle. 
With that, the four began that best part of the trip to the beach. 

The warmth of the memory vanished leaving an iciness inside her. She felt the eerie touch of hollowness opening the most unhealed wounds. Gloom breathed down her neck reminding that it will stay as long as she is breathing. She tossed and turned for what felt like an eternity, and when she finally felt she was seeping into oblivion, she hoped that she would never wake up again. 

The Only Reason Why

"What if the only way not to feel bad is to stop feeling anything at all forever?" She paused the show, drank a glass of water, and let the question sink in. After ten minutes she hit play and watched the rest.

When the show was over, she checked the time and got into her bed. She still had four hours to decide; it was her biggest and only decision. She didn't pull on the blanket because, for some reason, the cold didn't bother her. Staring at the dark ceiling, she tried to draw the parallels between her life and the show. The more the relatable, the better.

1. It started with the only friend she had or at least she thought she had.
2. The boy with pretty eyes not only broke her heart but also her spirit.
3. The neighbor who stopped coming at the window and stopped responding to the doorbell.

She paused to reckon where did she go wrong. Why did it keep happening? The only thought that came back was how she cannot fix it.

4. Sometimes having the same interests or laughing at the same thing doesn't guarantee lifelong friendship. The light haired boy stopped responding to her texts.
5. She gave friendship another chance but little did she know that it would be her undoing. The love and strength of the friendship turned to torment and a constant gloom.
6. The tall, dark haired boy told her things she couldn't un-hear. Worse, she believed some of them.

She checked the time: 2 hours left. Time flies when you wallow in self-pity and sorrow. She made coffee. If she would give it a few more try, she might be able to make it as good as her mother does.

7. She didn't blame the girl at all. If anything, she made her stay. But she was beyond repair.

She tore a page from her fancy writing pad and wrote the only reason she could think of: SOME OF YOU CARED. NONE OF YOU CARED ENOUGH. She left the page on the coffee table in the living room and headed outside.

FUTURE PAST

Time moves in both ways. What you do now not only affects your past but also your future. That is because what you do this moment becomes your past the next moment. 

So, the controller is your present, and maybe for the same reason, we come across posts like "live in this moment" or "Enjoy now" etcetera. 

I have heard nothing but petrifying remarks about future. How it is so uncertain and terrifying, and above all, important. But haven't you wondered how the uncertainty of future is oddly settling? How the future is filled with nothing but hope. You may be sulking with rage or drowning in gloom but the hope that future will bring happiness, my friend, will help you live. 

I think for the most part people are afraid of the future because the pain is unknown. With the past, we are familiar with the pain. But a quote from the movie Her might help, "Sometimes I think I have felt everything I’m ever gonna feel. And from here on out, I’m not gonna feel anything new. Just lesser versions of what I’ve already felt." So, you see, pain is inevitable but the silver lining is how the intensity decreases with time. Once you accept that, the idea of future seems welcoming. 

Now, you just have to fight the present. 

Chat Conversation End

The Last Straw.

Forcing her tears back, she stared at the blank page. With every ounce of strength she had within her weary heart, she began writing...

Dear Mr. J.D. Salinger, 
You said that one of these days, I am going to have to find out where I want to go. And then I've got to start going there. Well, what if I don't know how to find out where I want to go or how to get there. I think somewhere deep down, I do know where to go. I just cannot figure out how. And with lot of things that can kill a human being, the "how" wins. 

I think Holden Caulfield is one of the most courageous character I've ever read about. It takes more than all your strength to be okay with not being accepted. I think blame is a defense mechanism we use to not despise ourselves for the rest of our lives, and I feel very much part of this blame game. 

Someone told me that people who like Holden Caulfield are people who are equally miserable like him. But aren't we all miserable? Don't we all just want to be the catcher in the rye? I think people who do not like Holden Caulfield are afraid of accepting their misery and not being a part of the 'utopia'. I think when you're seventeen, you don't have much choice than detesting the universe for all the bad luck that comes your way. After all, isn't it the world who puts the label and discriminate, reminding us that someone always has it better than us? 

I always wondered if Holden had any friend he wanted to talk to. If he didn't, I hope he made a friend. Friend, you need that when you truly want to live. Someone who would show you the best version of yourself, someone who would listen, someone who would be okay with you being irrational, and someone who would definitely not play the 'I have it worse' game. 

Since childhood we are taught that you could tell anything to your family and they will never turn their backs to you but what no one teaches you is that telling them is the most difficult thing you'll ever do. If I am being completely honest here, I don't have the courage to tell them. You ask about what? About anything. Mostly about what I want out of life. 

I still wonder what happened to Holden. Did he tell his parents?
Well, I am going to hope he got everything he wanted out of life.
Mr. Salinger, somewhere along the way your book saved me, and I want to thank you for that. 


She didn't sign who it was from. She put the letter in the envelope, reached the post box, dropped it there and made her way to the bridge. 

UNGODLY HOUR

She looked at her wrist watch. She had an hour until her boarding. Girl, Interrupted rested on her suitcase. There had to be something wrong with her for not feeling the temptation to pick it up and read. Just when she put on her ear phones someone waved a hand in front of her. She took off the ear phones and looked at the stranger questioningly. 

"Umm..can I get a pen? I need to fill up a form." 

"Sure." She reached into her bag pack and took out a pen. "Here."
The boy, she noticed, had tattoos on his arm. "Nice tattoos." She said when he returned her back the pen.
"Thank you." His smile seemed forced. She wondered if he regretted the tattoos. Most people did anyway. 

"Where are you flying to?" He asked. 

A conversation. She didn't like conversation with strangers. What is wrong with you? she thought to herself. 

"New York."

"What were you listening to?" 

Another question. Now she was panicking. "Ungodly Hour by The Fray."
"Oh, I like The Fray."

He took a seat beside her but didn't ask her any other questions. She felt relief. From the corner of her eye she saw him take out a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird.
"You read?" 

"Sometimes." 

"How is the book?"

"You never read it? This is my 4th time reading it. It is fantastic." 

"You think it is better than The Catcher in The Rye?"

"Better than a teenager whining about the world? Yeah, I think so." 

She laughed. 

"So, what's your story?" 

"Is it necessary to have a story?" 

"Not necessary but everyone has one." 

"Well, I am just a twenty three year old going to New York for a purpose. That's the story."

He looked at her intently and said, "Your purpose or someone else's?"  

She was dumbfounded for a moment. Before she could answer, she heard the announcement.
"I have to go. It was nice meeting you." She started to leave when his words made her stop.
"Have a great flight but if New York is not your purpose, I hope the aircraft doesn't have any phalanges." 

She smiled a weak smile and made for counter. When she turned around to look, he wasn't there. 

"Hello, can I get your passport?" The lady at the counter asked. 

Handing her passport, she hoped the aircraft didn't have phalanges.