She did not want to know how she was
feeling at that time; neither was she ready to acknowledge the fact that she
was self-pitying herself. She wanted to face it and get over it. After all, she
knew her life was pathetic - Disturbingly pathetic.
At twenty eight years, she was earning
handful… her job was rewarding and satisfying… her parents were supportive and
loving… But, still something was missing…
For the past five years now, her routine
had been the same … Wake up-eat-work-eat-work-read-write-sleep… With each
passing years, she was growing more and more withdrawn. There was no one as
friend, well-wisher or confidante. There was no one in her life. All had a life
of their own; they had their own professional life and personal priorities.
Sadly, she didn’t fit into either.
She pined for happiness. She longed for a
family. She desperately wished to settle down in life. She forced herself to
move on. She compelled herself to forget him.
Yet…
She failed. Se fumbled. She felt crumpled.
To her own disgust and parent’s worry, she
hoped and wished that he would change… that he would come back soon. Though she
very well knew he never would. She knew that he was selfish and that she was
being selfish too.
Six years of separation has not made things
better. In spite of lack of communication and that fact that he has had
multiple flings, she waited. If all had to end and the relationship was meant
to go nowhere, why did it began, why did love bloom? Why dreams were seen only
to be shattered later?
Her dear friends were either married or
parenting or expecting. She started growing jealousy of them. She feared if she
could ever have a normal life too. She felt scared that she hurt her parents to
an unpardonable extent and would die alone like an abandoned orphan.
Her best education or the fine intellect
didn’t do any good to her. She was just proving to evolve like any other
illiterate and dependent rural girl. The disgust was becoming intolerable. She
wanted to strangle herself to death. She wanted to escape the cruelties that
life casually offered.
Wow Locomente, is this you? I felt that your story/poem was so sad and forlorn and that hope everything is okay. Is it autobio? I hope not. I have learned that the most passionate are usually writing from personal pain. Hope you feel better as time goes on.
ReplyDeleteIts not an autobiography James... I am super-fine :)
DeleteIts true that the most passionate write from their personal pain...
Sometimes, what-if reasoning in the mind will also give birth such write-ups,...
Thanks a lot :)
this is painful..
ReplyDeleteThanks Kannappa :)
Deleteits so deep and meaningful.....
ReplyDeleteThanks Pratibha :)
DeleteLocomente ... I can understand the pain undergoing by her...
ReplyDeleteHope she will overcome from tis soon... may the almighty giv the power to her to comeout.. or get things as per her wish...
Really hurting her situation...
Siv
Thanks Siv :)
Delete