Personal Cosmos

PART - III

It was a sunny morning. So, I set out for a little morning walk, in hopes of awakening my numb spirits buried deep wi- "Yo, Andy!"

And there he was. On a bike. Grinning creepily. Right beside me. Wait. Right beside me?!

Naturally, I got sacred to death and was about to trip, but thankfully enough, he held my waist to prevent it. I swear, if I'd gotten another fracture, I'd have cracked his skull open with a goddamned coconut.

After getting my balance back, he let go off me and asked about my progress with the poem. I had to answer him honestly - "Vicks, to tell you the truth, I can't do it. I'm... Still not ready."

"Why? You just need to stop thinking that you are depressed. You can do it!"

I thought he could relate? Way to ruin my mood.

"Do you think it's that easy?!" I raised my voice slightly. "I have been trying all this time! It's not just a cakewalk! I need time to regain my feelings!"

He was a little taken aback at that, but he regained his composure pretty much instantly. He held my right shoulder and said - "Really? Then what is this? Aren't you getting angry?"

"Huh?"

"See? You're angry. And you're confused. And you're distressed. And you know you can heal with time. You're wrong, Andy. Time is not what you need. Change is. A change within yourself. You need to accept your own self."

His simple sentences whirled in my head to take a bizarre form. Too many memories attacked my mind all at once. Too many regrets cornered me and I couldn't recognize myself. His words struck me deep and all I could do was hyperventilate and pass out.

~°~

Do you understand why I pictured him like a God now?

Give him two minutes, and he'll flip your whole world upside down like an omelette.

I remember waking up in my brother's room and immediately wishing I hadn't woken up. My memories were a mess. The only distinct thing was... Vicks. And what he said.

I had to use the washroom to ease the headache a little. I was so lost, I just wanted to rewind.

In fact, the fact that I was slouching against a toilet seat was factually the least of my worries.

At that moment, I could only despise myself for being so arrogant and self-centered to think I'd be able to pull myself out of the black hole without even trying. I would think of myself as a person with all sorts of hidden qualities. I had thought of all the wrong reasons for my depression. I had even taken the liberty to formally announce it as 'depression'. I had been so utterly wrong.

I had to realize the world I lived in was a human world, before I could think of myself as inhumanly extraordinary. I had to believe in myself, before I could be disappointed in others. I had to learn how to think, before I could think about what to think. I had to know, understand and accept myself for who I am, before I could nurture myself.

He was right. The way out had been on my blind-spot. I'd just never bothered to turn my head.

I went to the washbasin and asked into the mirror - "Just how wrong have I been treating you?"