Some Time Alone

 Looking at the stars shining dimly in the purple sky, you sigh softly. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You try to see the world through your other senses. You feel the soft, cool breeze blowing wisps of your hair over your face and the rumbling of the train speeding away at a distance. You feel the cold marble pressed beneath the soles of your feet. You feel the quietness of the night, the bliss of isolation. You feel a myriad of things, really. Especially, the heavy burden you feel at the centre of your chest.

You feel like a trapped animal, behind the steel grills of the window. It reminds you of your childhood days. All those visits to the zoo, scrutinizing the animals trapped inside THEIR cages and tapping the bars to illicit a response from them. You remember how some of them stared back. The emptiness in their eyes, the vacant stares. Not caring about the annoying little brat tapping the bars, or the world altogether. This time, you're the one staring out of the cage. 

You sit and wait. You wait for the dark moment to pass. You wonder if it is a good idea to call up someone. Someone to chat with, someone to pour your heart to. Immediately, you brush away the idea. You don't feel like burdening someone else. Moreover, you don't know what to say to that someone. How can you explain something which you, yourself, don't understand? These myriad emotions, they drive you breathless. It's hard opening up to people. It's hard stringing words together and when you finally do, they sound all wrong. They don't make sense when spoken out loud. They only do inside of your head. So, isn't it better to just keep it inside?

 You open your eyes. You take a deep breath. You look down and glance at your watch. You get up and turn around. Your time is up. It's time to face the world again.

GoIng AwAy

She's leaving home today. She's leaving home to live among strangers. She's leaving her city today. The place where she grew up. She's going far, far away. She knows not what lies ahead of her. She knows not what she's leaving behind. She just knows that she has to take a step forward, one step after another and hope they lead to some place better.

 Tonight, she will sleep under a different sky. Tonight, she will sleep among strangers. She will look at the moon and miss her family; sleeping hundreds of miles away. She knows not what morning would bring with it. Knows not what lies in store for her. She just knows that she has to take a step forward, one step after another and hope they lead to some place better.

She's trying to be brave, she's trying not to be afraid. She feels overwhelmed. She wants to stay back, she's afraid of leaving the safety and comfort of home. But, she has to go. She has a lot to do, someone to be. A lot to prove to people, especially to herself. Chanting this, she looks back at the mirror. She sees a little girl with ponytails. She blinks and the little girl is gone. In her place, she now sees her own reflection. The reflection of a young woman, standing tall. Trying to be brave but if you look closely, you can still see the girl with the ponytails somewhere inside.

Time Ticking Away

Pressing his hands against the warm windowpane, he watched the world outside. He watched in wonder, the shafts of sunlight that streamed in through the  leaves of the banyan tree in front of his window. He watched the leaves as they twirled in mid-air and softly landed on the ground below. He closed his eyes and tried to commit it all to his memory. He stood there like that, for awhile.

Eventually he opened his eyes and was surprised to find a tear drop nestled at the corner of his right eye. He wiped it away and sighed. Holding on to his walking cane, he slowly made his way back to his bed. He sat down and lifted his leg and dropped them on to the mattress with a huff. This small task of helping himself back onto his bed tired him greatly and he felt exhausted and drained.

His eyes wandered about in the little room that was his sanctuary since the last few months. His eyes wandered to the frayed and battered copy of 'The Wuthering Heights' that laid on his bedside table. They, then, moved to the small, ticking clock that adorned the wall in front of him. He watched the clock ticking away and wondered, how many rounds the small hand would make before it eventually stopped. Before time eventually stopped for him. His eyes then flitted away and landed on the small glass case that was on his left. His eyes lingered on the numerous certificates and trophies, a reminder of his past life and a mockery of a future that will never be. He is reminded of the many nights that he had spent working towards a shining career. Burning through the midnight oil, his eyes pouring over pages while a fire burnt inside of him. Inching his way towards fulfilling his dream, his parents' dream; their dream. Only to find one day, that dream shattered and broken into a million pieces. His dream, his parents' dream-everything ruined by a series of phone calls from the doctor. The first phone call that told him that it wasn't a migraine that had him groaning in pain. And the subsequent phone calls that told him how the chemotherapy had failed and that he had, at the most, four more months to live.

He grew reclusive. He stopped returning phone calls and hardly ever stepped out of his room. He was envious of everyone. The next door neighbour, the maidservant and even his parents. He was jealous of them, the time they still had and wasted. He, on the other hand, had to watch the darkness that was slowly seeping in from all side and wait for death to finally snuff out his life.
He wasn't afraid of death any more. Death, no longer scared him. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and listened to the clock ticking away.