Six months have passed . And I am at my lowest ; professionally , personally, outwardly , inwardly. I had simple dreams, and I was working really hard. Travelling in buses avoiding embarrassing touches of men hanging with me on the rod , solving question papers sitting in the little space I managed to squeeze into , in the Ladies Compartment of the Delhi Metro. I was struggling but I was never suffering.I loved myself. Never was the long journey trying enough to stop me from attending the classes. Never I doubted my decision to prepare for the second toughest exam of the world. But now I do.
I look into the mirror and wish to see that confident girl who would always be so sure about herself, her decisions. All I see is redness in the eyes from constant crying, the unkempt hair which demand a haircut, eyebrows which need plucking, and lips dying to smile just once. Alas , they dont.
I dejectedly move away and face towards my room instead. I have assignments to complete and presentations to give. Maybe this semester my attendance might become short. I couldn’t even gather myself to face people these months. This reminds me how much I have always enjoyed being on my own. Solitude, my best friend. I dread it now out of the fear that I might sulk into depression. Or am I already under its spell?
I try to study. I pick up a book all excited that at this moment I’ll put an end to all this. But I cannot focus for long. How is this possible? I could sit on my chair till my back started to hurt. I throw it away. Maybe tomorrow I’ll try again. At least I have not given up. I am not completely lost. I am the perfect optimist. “Hope is the biggest of all illusions” , one of my teacher’s words ring in my head. No, I would never stop hoping even in the darkest hour.EVER. I decide to sleep but even she has left me. I lie on my bed thinking. Thoughts, they never leave me. I think about you and how beautiful your scent was. Tears well up but not enough to melt the sleep goddess to come to me. I try to cry as quietly as possible under my blanket. Finally I fall asleep trying to breathe through my flowing nose. I dream of feeling choked .
Today, I decide to go to one of my favourite places. The smell of books always cheers me up.I reach the library all decided to quit my sad solemn ways and get on with life. I pick up The Hindu whose editorials I have been missing for weeks. My love for this godly newspaper is eternal. Satisfied I head towards the Literature section, scrutinizing the rows. I pick up Plato ,might help in Ethics paper. I am unable to stay put through pages. Thoughts haunt me. I see you sitting in the chair in front of mine. My face has no emotions left. I feel a vacuum around. I am choking. I run away back home to my room, my safe place.
I am unable to speak . My mother keeps calling me and I keep staring at the fan. I search articles on Google . How to deal with a breakup, how to deal with failure, 10 ways to know if you are depressed, How to stay Motivated and every sort of crap available on the internet. Internet has become my closest friend these days. I read about people suffering like me, people hoping to enter the sacred corridors of the UPSC Dholpur House, people heartbroken like me. I read interviews of people who made it through the final interviews. In the midst I switch on Facebook. I scroll through your old messages. Missing you is the most painful feeling I have ever experienced. I hug myself to shield myself from it but its already inside of me. I want someone to help me. But who?
Its a Sunday.You call me. You are fighting your own demons. I don’t push you. I know you love me and its alright if you don’t want to say it to me anymore. The rational part of me tries to console me but the woman in me dies a little more.
I cannot take it anymore. I tell everything to my mother. I am asked to be practical and come out of the dreamy existence. I call my sister, and receive some more of “be practical” advice. I tell my friends. Nobody gets it. Not even me. Why am I putting myself through this all? I am the saddest person on Earth right now. So sad I almost laugh at myself.
I am surprised that through all this, I haven’t lost the zeal to live life. I keep on trying everyday. Maybe one day my suffering will stop. Days keep passing.
You gave me my first heartbreak and I am emotionally immature to handle it. I will learn slowly. Atleast we have ointments for external injuries but how do we deal with injuries to our mind? I am scared to love now. Even my lovely books, my godly newspaper, the evergreen voice of Kishore da, my beautiful pots in the garden but most of all my comforting solitude.
I am afraid of being alone now. Because thoughts creep up whenever they find me alone. I try to stay in public places. I spend my Saturdays in the library or watch TV for long hours. I try to stay away from music.But I can’t help it.
I listen to the songs for hours with the genre changing with the mood. I try to start with motivational numbers then slowly drift to the romantic ones and finally the sad melancholic ones. P B Shelley how aptly wrote that our favourite songs are the ones which strike chord with our saddest memories.
I decide to quit. I don’t care anymore. I quit on my books for some time. I quit on trying to win you back. But life, I would never quit on you.
I’ll be back, sooner or later. Till then I might as well blog.