If you haven't read the first part of this genre, it's above, do check it out, this one is the continuation, I have covered up from episode 73 to the last one. Enjoy!
When I first arrived in India after nearly a decade, I made a promise to myself. I promised to stay cloistered within my walls, let them put their blinkers on as I sell my façade of joy and stability to the world.
Questions of my well-being were smiled at me as they walked down the corridor and ran away without hearing the answer. Accolades and respect were earned and found their place on my father's wall of fame. Numbers, texts and laughter were exchanged with boys and girls but my heart missed beating for the friendship I held dear to life.
A spirit as fierce as a lioness, words edgy as a sword of steel, eagle eyes she possesses, a blanket of loneliness she befriends on cold cruel nights and for business, broken pieces she mends.
Day by day and little by little, she fought tooth and nail with my demons and me. Sometimes, she won hands down and other times, I let her win.
Days were long and nights gruelling and yet she succeeded in coercing her way through the labyrinth I built.
From a sassy little lady, epitome of patience she has been crowned.
She teaches me the language of resurgence, how to rise from ashes and dust. My whole Iife was spent playing hide and seek with my feelings. Like a whirlwind, she turns my world upside down. Her words slowly dwell on me and hope resurfaces in my veins.
She makes me realize that every person who has been broken isn't reduced to what happened to them. I am more than what happened to me and I have no right to let the past outweigh the future that awaits me.
Love is universal, it's the language spoken by all, broken or whole, sane or demented, we all crave for it. Love is the first slumber against your mother's chest, it's the proud glint in your father's eyes, the first kiss gifted by the beloved, the whispers shared under a parade of stars. It's all resounding and quiet, both at the same time.
I have the right to love, like anyone else.
Indeed, to taste the sweetness of that elixir is humanity's birth right.
As I stand at the front door of her house, my first love's oldest memory in hand, my hands clammy and my heart pounding at the speed of a freight train, I send a quick prayer to Almighty to let this day occur and not make me count another heartbreak.
Her palm fits in mine and she drags me inside like she always does and all the tension, all the anxiety I had been feeling until now evaporate into thin air and are washed away by her warmth, like rain drops on a mud covered road.
Trust is a jewel not everyone can wear and I ardently dreamt to slide it down her finger since I was sixteen years old. I want to trust her with me and my one and million issues, because a reality with her I have understood, looks so much better than the dreams I wave on papers.
In her quest to fix me, to make me deal with the skeletons in my closet that sat in the back of my mind, my worst nightmare is brought alive, my mother the one who deserted me enters the room and as she holds onto my cheek, I fight the urge not to lean into the warmth of her palm, for the child in me still resides.
When my mother gathers me in her arms, the tears hidden so deep into the crevices of my treacherous heart drench my face and I stand there unmoving, the memories reckon and I am a wreck inside.
I always thought that my best friend was on my team and now with the enemy she shakes hands and stands tall, her chin held high in defiance but her voice sweeter than honey, soft as a whisper as she tries in vain to make me see reason, to unfold the curtain of fraudulent idolatry blinding me.
