Ranjish | 𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒓𝒂𝒋

VI. paradox

vanraj :

It hurt, and it bled.
But somehow, it did not hurt as much as I had expected it to.
Had I now reached the levels of insanity where I enjoyed the pain?

Why was I even hurting myself over something Isha Bhonsale had to say?
I had been called the villain and life wrecker so many times, but I needed her validation about it to start with this mindless nonsense of self harm?

I stood at the balcony.
It was late at night, the moon shone just like yesterday.
I placed my injured hand on the railing of the balcony for support.

It hurt worse than I had assumed.
I hissed in pain as I gently removed her handkerchief.
The shards of glass stuck out.
I drew in a sharp breath.
Pulling them out would make the bleeding worse, and hurt like hell.

I touched the tip of a shard lightly with my other hand and immediately pulled back.
This was impossible.
I drew in a sharp breath, as tears ran down from the corners of my eyes.

All this pain, for nothing.

Just then I heard footsteps, confident and authoritive.

"Now what the hell do you want?!", I snapped, in annoyance.
Isha Bhonsale said nothing as she walked straight down to me.
She pulled a chair that was present in the balcony, placed a box - first aid, and took my injured hand.

I looked at her, slightly taken aback.

"Chahti kya ho tum—"

And she pulled out a shard.
I almost screamed in pain.
She did not seem too bothered, as she pulled out another.

"Stop it!"

"Thoda dard hoga, lekin agar nikala nehi toh injury will get worse."

"Arrey hone do! Dard ho raha hai!", I hissed trying to pull back my hand.
She looked up at me - and glared.
A death glare.

Imagine giving Vanraj Shah death glares - and worse, I was forced to comply.
Only a professor could make me abide her.

I gulped, clenching my other hand into a fist to combat the pain.

She carefully pulled out the last piece of glass from my palm, placing them carefully on the chair.
The wound bled profusely.

"Jo cheezen chubhti hai, unhe nikalkar phek dena hi behtar hota hai. Kaanch ke tukdo ko ghav par rehne denge ko har baar koi chuyega toh chot lagegi. Everytime someone even grazes the wound, it will get worse. And there will be no healing.", She said as she opened the first aid box.

I strictly looked straight at the distant buildings.

"If you truly want to heal, you will have to let go of those glass pieces.", She said,
"And this is not about shards of glass."

"Tumhe lagta hai saalon ki yaadon ko apne zehen se nikal phekna itna aasan hai?", I asked, as she applied the anti septic.

She drew in a deep breath.
"Nehi.", She said, "Lekin jin yaadon ka ab koi matlab nehi raha, unhe sameet kar, yaad karke, khudko iss tarah chott pohchane ka koi matlab nehi hai."