Thousand Paper Cuts

One : a rainy day In New York

For Rohama, who has guided me through so many paper cuts. And for all those who toil for the good times, for every person who had to survive worst of tragedies, for every soul stuck in the labyrinth, unable to make the right choice, and for those  lovebirds struggling to be together......this one is for you. 💜

                       ............

31st December, 1997

Skye :

She was one of those people, who thought that life was a beautiful ride, and it felt as good as eating strawberries while swimming.

While she tried not to get late, the flock of clouds started pouring on her red dumb hair, as she was walking down the concrete footpath. A stupid rainy day in New York. She really hated rain, just like any good Christian would hate sins. She had an utterly unbelievable little belief, that rain always blinded all the good colours in the universe. Sunshine was one of her favourite offerings of nature, which was somewhat lost while it rained.

Incidentally, she terribly wished that she could have her own car, like her friend did. Maybe she could get it after working 24/7 in her flower shop, or by publishing more underrated books.
Ha! She thought, a big giant dramatic Ha!
Because somewhere deep inside, she knew that even after working day and night, she could never afford one.

The stupid rain would always soak her red crazy hair, so she had to wash them with great efforts all over again. Such a waste of shampoo, she thought, because no matter what, people wouldn't look at her hair as something beautiful. They weren't only red, but on top of that, crazy curly.
But she shouldn't really care what others thought.
Life isn't given to us for thinking what other think of you, rather it is a sacred gift that is worth than some treasure map.

She kept looking for a taxi, while pushing back her hair, just like she would push terrible thoughts aside. The rain didn't stop forever, and trees were drenched in the rain beautifully.

She let out a sharp breath, when she finally saw a yellow cab on the road. It was raining so hard that even the roads of busy New York felt lonely and serene. Not to miss the chance, she ran hastily on the old footpath, her boots splashing in miniaturized puddles, and shouted for that damn cab to stop.

Mark :

He was one of those people, who thought that life was nothing but a gigantic mess of strangers, and it felt as bad as crying over someone who didn't love you.

He still couldn't believe that he was outside his home, in the great big world. Somehow, he wanted to forge back and hide in his comforters like a pussy cat, yet there was something real crucial to do, so he had to step out.
It was raining cats and dogs, but it was the only thing he didn't mind. He loved rain, just like Romeo loved Juliet. He knew that the world was a bad place to live, but rain was something hurtful and  lonely--something like himself.
And on the contrary, sunshine felt like he was totally exposed to the world, even if he wore black all the time.

So that was the reason, even if he had his own car, he chose to walk, because rain was always better. But then, the fear striked in, like a wave, as he saw so many people outside, running to escape the rain. He really hated the idea when people would run in the rain, as if the raindrops hurt like a bullet.
And once again, something weird was happening to him, and he wanted to shout so loud that it would shatter all the windows.
He hated people and stupid human voices, as the poet wrote,

"We have lingered in the chambers of the sea / By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown / Till human voices wake us, and we drown"

He really shouldn't have left his home. So that was when he started running too, just like others, even though he was running away from himself.
He thought : what is wrong with me? Why I can't act normal? Why is the world such a scary place? I want it all to just stop. Stop. Stop. I want to scream. So loud.
As he forged ahead to his destination, his eyes fell on a thing he just needed :
A stupid yellow cab, that was stopping nearby.
There were so many strange strangers around him, so the best possible decision was to ride in a cab, far from the madding crowd, because he had an inkling he would shout anytime soon.