CURIOSIVIKA

CHAPTER - 13 CRAVE FOR AFFECTION

ADVIKA'S POV~

There are times when people should understand a situation first to react wisely. Sometimes, we love someone and try our best to uplift them, even if the means is just a telephone call. Then born of this love is an evil desperateness... It makes you so frenzied that you wish to become the main lead in their tale, the one who brings them out of sorrow and alters the direction of their lives for good.

But it sucks, you don't even realize that not only are you burdening them and ruining their mood, but you're also degrading your own self-respect. In the end, that person might get sick of you and never wish to talk again. You might not realize it, but you're hurting them too much to recover later. That's how the most beautiful of relationships break off, one such had turned out to be my brother and I.

Countless times we shared laughter and tears, food and toys, even our parents, almost everything in our lives, but then he got into that hell of an institute of discipline. Things changed, tables turned; the only person who was reckless and foolish now was me... He had travelled far beyond towards a secure future, a perfect career, a sacred opportunity.

They say 3rd graders don't really understand visionary goals, but I did. At that pinnacle, only I had the visionary goals, he was a straightforward dumbass comic, nothing of a secret, and not even a bunch of complex emotions burdened his shoulders. But how things have changed...

He's all grown up, thousands of times more far-sighted than I ever was, a hundred times more recognized and respected than I had ever been. It makes my heart fill with envy and disgust for myself for how demoted and useless I've become. How far he went away with his bunch of failures and infinite tries, while here I am, below the path I ever walked on.

I feel like walking behind him, on the path that he has chosen. I want to be recognized and respected just like my elder brother. Finally, worthy of being called elder... A bare stretch occurred on my lips as I reminisced about the past and the present. I wish to become a winner like he is, and somewhere deep below I can't deny the respect I have for him. I've always admired him, be it for his looks or kindness, his knowledge or his humour. I've always wanted to walk in my elder brother's footsteps, but I guess I failed to express it all wisely.

But now I shall, I won't cry so easily anymore, and I won't react to people; instead, I will respond to them. I would be stronger with each passing day and would work on myself to attain a better version of myself, the ideal me. I cannot rewind the time to catch back what I lost, but now I shall work on my dreams and failures.

I know it's difficult, about a million times I've failed, and I understand that the choice between long-term benefit and short-term pleasure is crucial, plus hard. Thus, I would now live the character of an inspiration.

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As I sit in the quiet corner of my room, lost in these profound thoughts, a sudden movement catches my eye. There, perched on the windowsill, is Paws, a mischievous cat from the street. With his fluffy tail twitching and eyes glinting with mischief, he seems to be plotting something.

Before I can react, Paws leaps off the sill and lands right on my open journal. His paws leave inky prints on the pages, transforming my earnest monologue into an abstract piece of art.

"Paws!" I exclaim, half-annoyed, half-amused. He looks up at me with those innocent, wide eyes, as if saying, "What? I thought you needed a break."

I can't help but laugh. This cat, with his uncanny ability to bring lightness to even the most serious moments, has a knack for grounding me. It's as if he knows exactly when I need to be pulled out of my deep thoughts and reminded of the simple joys in life.

Paws purrs and rubs his head against my hand, a gentle reminder that life doesn't always have to be so heavy. Sometimes, it's the unexpected moments—the ink-stained pages, the playful pounce of a cat—that bring the most clarity.

I scoop him up, feeling the warmth of his fur against my skin. "Alright, Paws," I say with a smile, "you win this time. But next time, try to keep your artistic contributions off my journal, okay?"

He meows in response, a sound that somehow feels like agreement. As I sat him down and watch him saunter off, I realize that maybe, just maybe, life's little interruptions are what makes the journey worthwhile.

The guilt weighs on me like the heavy air before a storm. It's a tangible presence, a cloud that darkens my thoughts and taints my every action. I remember the day it settled in, the day my cowardice took over.

It was a day much like any other, the sky a clear expanse of blue, the sun a radiant orb of warmth. But beneath the calm exterior, a tempest brewed within me. A decision loomed on the horizon, one that required courage and conviction. Yet, when the moment arrived, I found myself paralyzed, unable to act.

The opportunity slipped through my fingers like sand, and with it, a piece of my self-respect. I watched, a silent spectator. The aftermath was a deluge of regret. Like the relentless rain that follows a cloudburst, it washed over me, eroding the foundations of my self-esteem. I had become an island, isolated by my own fear, surrounded by a sea of remorse.

Nature, in its infinite wisdom, often mirrors our inner turmoil. The way a river carves its path through the landscape, persistent and unwavering, is how I must shape my destiny. The river does not falter at the sight of boulders; it flows around them, sometimes gently, sometimes with a fierce determination.

I must learn from the river. I must embrace my guilt, not as a shackle, but as a reminder of what I stand to lose if I succumb to fear again. It is a painful lesson, but a necessary one. For it is only through acknowledging our weaknesses that we can begin to forge our strengths.

As the seasons change, so too must I. The leaves fall, the flowers bloom, and the earth continues its eternal cycle. I will rise from the ashes of my guilt, transformed and reborn. With each new dawn, I vow to face my fears, to stand tall against the gales of doubt, and to walk forward with purpose.

For in the end, it is not the absence of fear that defines us, but our ability to overcome it. And I, Advika, will not be defined by a moment of cowardice, but by the countless moments of courage that will follow.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

[10/06/2024]                   [Word count: 1170]