Today....I Ran!

I ran today. After three years of telling people that I have forgotten to run, of fearing whether I will ever run again, of feeling like a handicapped. I ran.

When my trainer asked me to run, I gave him an odd look. I told him I have forgotten to run. There it was, the fear, the fucking fear that always has a hold over me. But today, I said Fuck You Fear. I want to run without you following me everywhere. At first, I ran slowly, then as I gained speed, a beautiful feeling, something close to paradise got hold over me. I felt free! I felt liberated! I felt on top of the world! No pain in my leg, No thinking that I can’t run ever, No thinking of me as a handicapped. At that moment all that mattered was me running For The First Time In Three Years!

When I was lying bed ridden in my hospital, I drove my mom crazy saying “Maa, I want to walk! Maa, I want to walk!” When I started to walk in slow steps, holding a stick for support in my hand, I told my mother “Maa, I want to walk, walk and walk. I want to see the world without holding a stupid stick in my hand. I want to walk without feeling the never ending pain in my leg. I want to walk as normal people without having anything to worry about.” When I walked the first time without the stick in my hand, I told my mother “Maa, I will not feel normal until I run. I have to run. Running is me, a part of who I am. Until I run, I will never feel free.”

And today for the first time in three years, I was.

A Letter To My "Cute as Button" Brother......

To the shining light of my life,

I always wanted to write this letter, "our letter", to tell you how beautifully you entered my world and made it bright. You were the light to my darkness, you were the ray of hope at the end of my long dark tunnel.

The first time I saw you, was when father took me to the hospital, one fine day, the day you came into this world. A white cloth was wrapped around your body. You were the tiniest, the cutest thing that I have ever seen and you had just peed on the sheet (don’t kill me for mentioning it). I fell in love, sweety, I was totally lost. That moment will forever be etched in my mind because that day I found the other half of myself, my partner in crime, my life's greatest joy, my brother.

You were the sweetest thing I ever saw. You came to me for almost everything, at times to the point of me going nuts. Once, I remember being so angry at you that I left you behind and brought your friend a toffee. You, like the poor kid, who was left behind, followed me and got hit by a cycle. You broke your collar bone. I was terrified that I did that to you. I was too small to understand that I was selfish, that I should have accompanied you rather than leave you behind. It was not one of my proudest moments. I was too small to understand what you were to me, to understand that I should have taken greater care of you. I was too small.

When the people who loves you, who can do anything for you, who will love you unconditionally not caring the evil that you hoard inside is beside you, you seldom give a shit. You do not understand their importance, you push them away, you play with them, until they are too far away from you to get hold off.

I understand your importance, your absence the most when I found myself in the hospital. That moment I wanted to ensure everything was normal even when my whole world was anything but normal. I was lying there on that lone hospital bed alone, my partner in crime missing. I wanted you beside me, just like I spent 16 years of my life, sleeping beside each other, talking about the most silliest of stuffs, talking about some guy in my life, some girl in your life, talking...speculating about the ending of some book,some movie, some game that intrigued us. That was our life hon. The whole day, spent apart in school, or somewhere but at night together sharing tit-bits of our daily mundane life. That was being normal to me. Not me lying, helplessly on that stupid fucking hospital bed.

I saw you retreat into yourself, you created a world inside yourself, where you stored your each feeling, your each thought, your everything. And for the first time, I was not part of that world. I wanted to reach out so badly, because seeing you like that took the life out of me. I felt desperate hon. I felt wrung out from inside. It felt as if there is a gulf, never ending gulf between us. And I was responsible.

Somehow, we have learned to live, to be a part of each other's life but I still feel that emptiness inside me, the place that was yours, that you left but never reclaimed. I hope hon with all my heart, that one day, you will learn to trust me like you used to, to see me like you used to.

I have seen you grow up from a boy to a young man, a man who is not only beautiful but with a golden heart, a man not only honest but valiant. You are a survivor hon. You have gone through some of life's worst times but still I see you standing straight, trying to be something more. I know someday you will be a leader, a beautiful person doing good to our country and her people. 

I can't wait for that day to come.

Me and My Brother

P.S: I completely adore your blog. It's so full of you, your principles and ideas. You have made me one hell of a proud sister. Keep writing!

Love,
Your Sister

The New Dawn!

I woke up hearing the bird’s chirrups, drenched in the welcoming glow of the early winter sun, with new hopes and new resolutions for this year.

Two years have passed since that frightful night when I found myself in a strange white bed at the hospital with people I hardly knew tearing at my clothes. Previously, Ghosts were scarier but lying down helplessly in that strange bed made life itself a horror movie. I saw my family, resembling a bar of enticing Swiss chocolate, standing a foot away, forbidden to come anywhere near me. 

Two years…since that frightful night, the night I lost a part of me! Two years…to bring together the broken pieces of my scattered life! Two years…to prepare the new me for a new beginning!

With the blurred beginning, it was impossible to determine the end, things looked too scary and impossible. As the end approached, I found myself swiftly sailing towards the new me leaving behind the naivety of my old self. Everyone thought it was some divine miraculous power that gave me the strength to fight. I agree! There was a power, but it had little to do with the divine and more to do with the people around me.

The power came from my friends and my family. I have heard people saying that when you need your friends and family the most, they always let you down. I disagree. During my darkest time, when hell seemed a better option, I found them right beside me, each one of them with love and conviction in their eyes. Many people came and went, each giving me a beautiful memory, providing the foundation to build my life on.

With this post, I extend my love to all those people who were there right beside me, when I needed them the most, during the most dreadful misfortune of my life.
Love You all!!!

JJJJJ

The Story of a Cursed Dreamer!

Once upon a time, there was a frivolous girl who jumped at the mere indication of fun and frolic, who saw life as a gamble, who loved with her complete heart. She was happy, very happy with the way her life was. There were no expectations, no responsibilities, no limitations. She led her life on her on terms.

But Life had something else in store for her. One day, she found herself in a hospital bed. She thought of blaming her luck but her conscience forbade her. Her heart knew that it happened because of her frivolity. She was sacred, she thought she would die. But some secret power gave her hope, pushed her to remain strong. Deep down she knew if she overcame this hassle, she will no longer be the same.

After three months, she was released from the hospital. Since then she had a steady recovery. She looks the same, she speaks in the same dreamy tone, but something was not the same. Gone are the sparkling dreamy eyes. Instead, she bears a grave look, a look that speaks of pain, inner sufferings and desperation.

Time and again, I get to see the glimpses of that frivolous girl. She desperately calls me, to free her from her life of restrictions and solemnity.

Standing in front of the mirror, I look at her broken shadowy reflection, half wishing, half praying to do the impossible.