Purely, The emptiness!

I have always had this desire to roll over with skates but it is one of those wishes people usually don’t reveal as they are not really vital to them, but maybe it is a part of my nature. Maybe I never reveal too much of me even when I reveal everything, maybe it is because who I have become or maybe because nothing has ever influenced me much that I really need to care about enlightening everything. 

Thinking about serene life can be normal for people but for me it is a special idea, since I have been into so many anarchies and aged faster than usual and became weirder than I ought to. There are only a handful of things that I really feel are significant to me but beside those materialistic and godforsaken objectives in life, I also try to manufacture tiny flowers in the garden under my head. In point of fact I rarely do that but it came to my notice lately that I do, whatever the world may seem and no matter what I would want to accomplish in life; my human in me just ask for a beautiful emptiness. “Emptiness” is not an affirmative but it is us that have stamped a cruel implication to it, but in reality it can be fine-looking.

For me that ‘emptiness’ doesn’t carry any melancholy or lonesomeness but it transmit an exquisite simplicity of life. It is a power of ignorance to the questions, which I don’t want to answer because I know they are way too much materialistic for my real being. It is a state where you do not have to define anything to anyone and do nothing about anything. Maybe I am giving it a whole new meaning but that’s what I would like to think of it. That state is almost unreachable but we are all trying to grab its butt without knowing. As we are all fighting with nerve-racking situations and problematic routines or bad relationships or worst scenarios of life? Have you ever wondered why you are fighting and where you want to reach after that? Maybe you have wanted peace or isolation after everything but all I want is to be nothing, do nothing and mean nothing. It might sound horrifying to some people but that complex state of being a nothing is actually a true state of happiness.

We are all running after to reach somewhere, finding meaning of lives we are living, and elaborating our lives into words and sentences to give it a bona fide and complex purport. But what if we don’t need to do that, what if we can just stay calm at where we are, at being anything and mean nothing. I want to reach that state of being nothing called ‘emptiness’, where I have no definition of what I am doing and neither I would want to find one, what humans are suppose to do or what a daughter or a sister or a friend is supposed to do.

But materialism has eaten our souls although it is not wrong either, because that’s also a state of life’s reality. And we cannot defy reality but we can find within us a state of being nothing, not permanently, not as a substantial proof, but just as passivity.

CANCER!

It doesn’t need any introduction; it requires nothing to describe its cruelty. It is dangerous and dirty, enough to make a being scared to live.

Yes, I am talking about Cancer, the malicious disease that no one in his worst of worse nightmares would want to imagine. But many of us are scared, scared that it can happen to any of us, it is running like a fire in the air. We are all aware that it is not a fictional movie, it is real life, and we can no longer ignore our fear. I don’t know about all, but I am scared as hell. According to the statistics an estimated 14.1 million new cancer cases and 8.2 million cancer-related deaths occurred in 2012, compared with 12.7 million and 7.6 million, respectively, in 2008.

It has been few years since I am living with this fear which now seems to be growing day by day. I never intended to scribble down my thoughts as my fear comes along with anxiety, anxiety that stops me from thinking about the possibilities. But I couldn’t defy my urge after hearing and seeing numerous cases and especially after the early age death of one of my neighbors. That day horrified my every single sense I can sense, they were screaming something I didn’t understand. I live on the top floor of my building and I was able to hear them, hear them crying for the man, I felt their pain, their aching hopelessness, and their sign of relief.

Relief?  Yes relief, they always knew what was going to happen, but the hope for optimistic future lets us lead our lives in peace. Maybe I am wrong in believing that, but the least possible amount of relief was there, that he won’t suffer anymore. The piece of him that became curse, will never suffer anymore.  What else was there for them to think, there weren’t any answers to the questions they had in their melting hearts, there wasn’t any alternative except acceptance.

I am all aware of the fact that there are millions of other diseases that make people’s life miserable. But I don’t hear them more than Cancer. We cannot even imagine the hopelessness in those people who are sitting on a chair with the devil’s watch. Nothing kills a man more than waiting, waiting to die, or to live. And, even if they live, they do not breathe the same, they surely become the strongest people on earth since they survived the worst. But the history of terror and pain never gives them what they once had. Their eyes won’t see the same things same way, they won’t see god, love, death, life or anything the same way they used to do. These diseases not only kill the man’s body but, also his ability to live with his own self.

I know I am scared but, aren’t you? But there is nothing we can do, purest of pure man have had it. But we have to live, so we live, life goes on……………………………………

 “God is the culprit, He wronged you

You made him king of the world he doesn’t belongs to

Brokenhearted mother earth, defied to look after

Trembled in pain when she perceived human’s disaster

Her green turned black by wounds and desecration

Vengeance she preaches and it is her imprecation.”

  

The crime she never did! (Short story)

3^rd march 2011

She twisted the key into the door and opened the lock; it was for the first time that she was able to open it straight away; she hated that lock since the unnecessary struggles have always frustrated her. Then she moves to another door to push it, but the elevated flooring gets stuck into the way and spatter up the dust in the air, she pushes harder and gets in; the tiny particles were all over the place to remind her of the long wait. It was locked for a long period that she wasn’t even able to recognize the smell of her own house. But she liked this new smell too; she had a good sense of smell. And had this obsession of smelling everything since childhood.

After walking inside she realizes that the rooms were quite empty, but still were clinging to some old things, enough to remind her of everything she once had. Then moves from one room to another, she passes the kitchen; the place she always detested. Eventually she stops in front of the door of the last room of the house, *inhales deeply* ‘I missed you’ she whispers. It was her room, her old iron made Almirah and furthermore her bed was still there. Her parents knew what she will need when she will come home and they were right. That’s all she needed at that point. The new smell, her bed and complete segregation.

She was feeling fragile, her legs trembled a little. Approaching towards her bed, she heaves a sigh in relief. Adjusting her brown bag under her head she stretches out in no direction in particular and falls deeply in sleep. She wakes up few times in between but her feverish body doesn’t allow her to get up but, she lastly gets up after 10 hours. She peeks outside through her windows, it was evening now. Assembling her pale body she walks out through the door in her room which was directed towards balcony, where she used to smoke sometimes. She lights her broken cigarette and inhales it deeply, she feels the hit inside deep her chest. And at that moment she was feeling nothing, in fact she was feeling nothing from the last few months. Her stare was stuck to that tree, which has always been there. Nothing had changed in the world she lived in but, nothing was the same in the world that lived in her.

It was late in the night when she realized she hadn’t bathed from long, she gets up from her favorite broken chair and leaves the yellow note on the bed which says ‘ grief demands an answer but, sometimes there isn’t one’ with her sign under it which says ‘ Kayla Hassan’.  She unlocks her Almirah and finds herself lost in the memories of haunting past; nothing seems to feed anything in her now. She picks up some clothes and leaves them on bed and move towards lavatory. She stands under the shower for very long, it never felt like that ever before. The cold water bathes her body but, not really cleans her. She starts rubbing herself, every single part of her body; it’s been a long time since anybody had touched her body since she had touched her own body. She stares at the grey foam her body was making. The cuts and marks of her skin were reminding her of the fights in the jail and how that jailor tried to force him on her and asked her to illustrate How She Kills.

She did make some good friends in prison but, the irony is nobody is good when they are behind the bars. When she used to sit idle inside the prison, she always tried to sketch herself. Imagining that she is standing in front of the bars, watching herself sitting inside the prison. It was what she preferred to do, when she had nothing to do. While rubbing herself with the towel, she laughs hysterically, for how creepy her thoughts were when she used to imagine. She still memorizes the pictures of herself; she looked pale and horrifying in them, the only thing that looked strong were those iron bars.

After one year and two months, she couldn’t actually recognize her own face in the mirror. She never was very beautiful but, she hates what she sees now. She tried to look into her eyes, but the wounds and nastiness were enough to haul her back to agony. She always was just to people but, people weren’t always just to her. The truth, the logic, the ethics, the morals, the justice, the peace and every other big word could never bring her back; her own self. They can never bring her back what she used to think, she will always live in an existential crisis, she will always be the girl who got herself raped and murdered the innocent rapist.

While dressing up she smells herself; it was nostalgic for her to smell herself. She was a normal girl living in the capital of India but, now she is nothing. She had a wise brain and used to write until she was thrown into prison for the crime she never did. She was staring at the picture which was gifted by her close friend Rashi on her birthday, she looked funny and happy in that picture but, she feels nothing by looking at the picture since it only reminds her of the pictures she used to imagine in lockup. But it made her think why her parents didn’t leave any picture of them in the house. They left the house and their little wealth to her and moved to another city after what media did to them. Not only her parents but, also everything she ever had, left her. She killed her rapist and got into prison in charge of murder and nobody gave it a name of defense because nobody believed her. The prosecution made it clear to people that she had sex with him and killed him for her selfish reasons. There were loads of accusations charged on her because he was a son of a rich father.

She was a rebel and a very thoughtful person, but she was nobody now. She always had this tendency to train her mind to become numb when she couldn’t do anything about it. That’s what she was doing now. She was in prison until they realized she wasn’t completely at fault, they apologized but, their sorry faces were never going to return her what has gone astray. Everything that has ever been significant to her was her mind, which now was lost and which could never be found again. It was never about winning or losing the case, it was about memories, they don’t let you live and they don’t let you die. She was very much into psychology and was still aware of what was happening to her, but she refused to come back. She thought she deserves quitting, at least for now; she doesn’t want to explain to her anything. She will not die, but she doesn’t care to live and that’s how she wanted to stay at least for now.

10^th march 2011

After spending a week completely alone at home, she realized that she didn’t contact her best friend. The only person who trusted her, who came to meet her every end of the month, who didn’t see her as failure, who cried for what happened, who hated her, who loved her, who lost her patience thousands times and tried to forget her but, came back every time at same day of the month. Kayla never talked much to her but she knew Zaira understood everything, she was also having the hardest time in her life but, she will understand. Kayla and Zaira had been together for more than 12 years, and there was nothing more important for them except their companionship and love. They were not friends; they were each other’s life and stability, more than anyone can understand.

She calls her number on the phone she brought herself yesterday, and that was the only number she remembered. She wasn’t sure if Zaira still had the same number and meanwhile she was feeling disgust in anxiety. But she had to dial her, and tell her that she is out of prison now, she didn’t tell her anything about it earlier.

Zaira: hello?

….

Hellooo??

….amm

!?! Who is this?? hellooo?

Kayla!

….. aa mm … yes, what,… ho..How are you? And you are out?

Yeah you… YOU ARE OUT AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME… WHERE ARE YOU… FROM WHERE ARE YOU CALLING ME, WHO YOU ARE WITH?? WHOSE NUMBER IS THIS? WHERE ARE YOU?

Yeah I am out and take a breath; your exhilaration is killing me. I am at home and alone.

What? When did you reach home and why didn’t you tell me? I atleast deserve that much huh? *silence* ………………………….But maybe I understand.

I know you do, come home.

I am coming right away; it will take me an hour to reach. Is this your number?

Okay, yes it is mine.

YOU BROUGHT A NEW NUMBER? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN OUT?

Zaira? Come home.

Amm okay, I am trying to handle this wisely. Hmm! I am coming.

She comes home after one and a half hours, they see each other but, their eyes don’t meet. The bodies and faces have changed, Kayla feels disturbed by her presence but, she knew her feelings were temporary. They sat on her bed and try to make some talk without looking at each other. They never felt this much awkwardness with each other-ever-before but now they can sense the gap. Zaira starts asking her questions patiently but, wasn’t able to make Kayla say more than a word or two. She sighs disappointedly and stretches her leg like she used to, then she eagerly opens her bag and hand over Kayla her favorite sandwiches that she almost forgot. After four hours of struggle and weirdness, the ice completely melts and they both share some cigarettes. Zaira cries loudly and tells her few important things about her life. She cries that she wanted to talk a lot about many things but, her mind was blank now. Kayla didn’t say much but, enough to make Zaira cry and smile at the same moment.

8^th may 2011

Kayla wakes up with a severe headache; she had been taking too many drugs lately. She takes four disprins at once and put her head under cold running water but, it doesn’t seem to relief her. She notices that the sink is turning red with her blood. Her nose was bleeding heavily, she wasn’t much conscious to do anything else than splashing water over her nose. In efforts of managing her body and bleeding nose and heavy head she fells and loses her senses. After 3 hours, she wakes up and tries to remember what happened.  She makes an effort to stand up so she could look herself into the mirror, but what she sees was blood everywhere, and she again sees her ugly face, which now is uglier. She doesn’t even try to look into her eyes.

She cleans herself and rest in the bed for another hour and think of what she is doing but, as she was trained in becoming numb, she adapts that again and lights another joint.

17^th July 2011

She lost 15kgs and sitting under sun in summers doesn’t bother her body now. She looks at her arm and she only sees the wounds of shots she had been giving herself. She manages to get up and walk straight inside her house, which looks worse than the day she entered the first time. She gulps a glass of water and splashes some on her face. She wipes off the mirror with her hand and struggle to see herself. Her torn dirty clothes, wounded and pale body makes her hate herself. She growl in range, ‘I HATEEE MYSELF’ she screams, ‘WHY’D YOU DO THIS TO ME?’. She was an atheist and believed in humans but, the brutality killed her thousand times than any god could.

She tears up everything up in anger, throws every object that was reachable to her hands and breaks down into pieces, she howls piercingly for the first time after that day. She knew this will happen one day, she tries to remember whatever was her once, thousands of flashes falls into her eyes with her thousand tears.

She shouts standing in front of mirror ‘WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? WHY CAN’T YOU JUST GET BETTER’ she cries. After hours she eventually falls on the floor.

18^th July 2011

After a very long time, she feels that she still had some senses left. The mirror was still in front, the torn off dirty clothes, dirty hands, wounds, and everything was there but, she could see the light of change. She puts her both hands on the mirror, KAYLA… KAYLAAA... KALYAAAA… she screams. And, finally looks above her nose, she looks into her eyes. They were pale, unmentionably sad and broken eyes. She quivers in pain of that sadness she just saw and breaks down into her hands.

22^nd July 2011

Her house was clean now, the smell was good, and there wasn’t even any smell of drugs and smoke. Zaira gets in happily and roams around the house, months after her first visit; Kayla allowed her to come in finally. Kayla was cooking for her best friend and looked fresh too.

19^th august 2011

She had a job now, she writes for a private company and earn well for herself. She and Zaira were great friends again. It was never easy for Kayla to do what she did, but if she was able to murder someone, she was also able to murder the evil inside her.

13^th September 2014

She became a great writer and earns handsomely. She also joined a social group in India that helped underprivileged women to find better way to live and survive. She became a tough feminist and a writer.