When I walked through….(Chapter-6)

Click here to read chapter-7

Stella stood there, in the middle of her room, holding a picture, a pleasant picture of her parents and her…….picture of a time when there was peace, no fight over dreams, no fight over rights, no tears, no sorrow!

There were too many noises in her brain, too much to be able to listen to any one of them. It seemed as though she was standing in the middle of a desert……her mouth was dry; her brow was frowned, sweat trickled down her neck. She felt as if all the blood in her body has rushed to her brain, it seemed as though her body foresaw the war and its qualms before Stella could have even thought about it!

There was a tension in the air, taut enough to be able to break every ax that came to cut it! For the first time in her life, Stella heard silence cry and wail…..it pierced through her ears. She tried to swallow the saliva in her mouth, it was thick, very thick…. she almost choked on it.

The picture that she held in her hands was the first attack of the war, straight on her heart, salt for her wounds! Her heartbeat went very high; she was scared for her life. Her pulse was rising, higher….and higher…..higher enough for her to hear it, it ringed in her ears. Her heart was begging for help, warning her for the storm, telling her not to step outside!

She was boiling, as though she had the worst fever ever known and then…..she felt cold, as cold as ice, frighteningly cold. For a second she wondered if she was still alive. Scared, she immediately kept the picture back.

It was hard for her to face her parents, even in a picture! Those smiles added fuel to the fire of her guilt!

She shook her hands, rubbed them against each other and then rubbed them on her face and her eyes. Closing eyes was not scary for her now, the world outside was as dark as the world within!

She picked up the picture for the last time, hugged it and then kept it back without looking at it. Those smiles could have tied her down but she strived to be free! She picked her bag and started towards the window but stopped dead at her spot….turned back and then looked at every single thing in her room. It was not just a glance, she wanted to record every single detail, capture it with her eyes. Her room was special, it had seen a lot…..it had seen her cry, laugh, break down, then pick up her own pieces to fix herself and then move forward. Here, she was looking at it for the last time; she knew that she will never be back! She looked at everything, closed her eyes to picture it in her mind, gave a deep sigh, and then opened her eyes again to bid it a smiley goodbye. Her eyes were already teary; the smile appeared like a rainbow formed on a very gloomy sky!

She then rushed back to her window and escaped, without ever looking back!

“Emergency! Emergency!”

The noise immediately caught Stella’s attention. She was lost so deep in her memories that it took her a few minutes to realize that she was in a hospital for the treatment of her friend and that seven years have already passed since the night she eloped! Her eyes fell upon the letter in her hands….just a piece of paper but felt as heavy as a huge metal boulder. She swallowed her saliva; it was just as thick as that night, tainted with her guilt, enough to choke her!

With a very scared heart, she started to read,

“Dear Stella,

It has been a while, I know! I know that I should have tried to reach you sooner! I know that I should have never allowed our relationship to stoop to this level in the first place! I know that you deserved the right to explore the world with your own perspective …. but …..alas! I don’t know why I tried to stop you then!

When I was young, my mom always used to teach me about the importance of nurturing relationships with love.  She used to tell me that a relationship is like a piece of glass, you heat it with the warmth of your love, give it some time and then mold it into a vial. This vial contains your guilt, sorrow, happiness, failures, achievements, flaws and beauty. The more love that you provide it; the larger it grows, holding more and more parts of your life. But, if you lose your patience, become greedy and try to stretch it forcefully without giving it the love and time that it deserves, it breaks, spilling all that it once held, and you….you end up losing a huge part of yourself. Since the night you left, her words have been a hymn for me!

But, I am not writing this letter to dwell on the past, I am writing it to inform you about something very important, something that I am guilty of…..”

The paper was torn after that. She was trying very hard to hold back her tears, her lips were twitching. She felt helpless, ran her fingers against the torn end of the paper, hoping to read whatever was left unsaid, turned the paper and found something more….

“I am sorry, Stella! I know that I should have told this to you earlier, but…I just could not find the courage in myself!

I know that I have disappointed you, sorry again. Maybe I do not deserve an apology but please try to grant me one if you can.

Miss you!

Your loving father,

David.”

Stella could not hold her tears back! A stream trickled down her cheeks. She missed her father too! She wanted to meet him, hug him, tell him that she has already forgiven him and say sorry for giving him so much pain. She wanted to say so much, hear, even more, wanted to be that loving daughter again. I wish she knew where he was!

A hand came on Stella’s shoulder. She turned back to find John. He felt like an oasis in the middle of a desert, like a drop of water on barren land. She immediately hugged him and cried…..cried…and cried on, like a baby!

What was Stella’s father trying to tell her? How are the events going on in the house related to him? Find out in the upcoming chapters of “When I walked through”. Follow the blog to receive an e-mail every time we release a new chapter.

 

 

Tranquility…

When I walked through….

Fear of failure….

The leaves of the tree above me fluttered as they sang the song penned by the wind. The wind was in a rush, it was sprinting across the clear blue sky, as if, it had to deliver the letters written by the lovers. On its way, it greeted the bright and magnificent Sun, which was shining with all its might, blessing the landscape with the amber.

On the tree above, a sweet pair of cuckoos gossiped endlessly, adding a music to the serenity of the view.

I was sitting under the tree facing the beautiful blue lake, with a pen and a diary in my hand, praying and longing for a few drops of creativity from the vast sea that surrounded me.

Sitting there for a few minutes, excited like a child who is about to get candy, I was almost experiencing the bliss of meditation. The feel of the tiny grass under my feet, the relief as it was snatching the exhaustion and the negativity away from me, the mild fragrance of the moist soil calming my nerves, the living definition of tranquility!

To interrupt my rendezvous with the greens, a beautiful and playful butterfly came and sat on my diary. She travelled from word to word, trying to read the agony behind them.

Her wings, the masterpiece! They were abode to an array of colours, some of them, unknown to the humankind!

She sat there for a while, gracing my view with her presence. Then, she decided to end her short stay, flew away, continuing her journey to find a palace that suited her royalty, and I……..I dived back into the deep forest of my entangled thoughts!

Fear of Failure……

Click here to read chapter-1

I was sitting in a rocking chair with a pen and diary in my hand. It creaked as I rocked it back and forth. The room was silent and had a dim oil lamp which accented its decor with a beautiful yellow.  The room was silent, but my mind was not! In my mind, there was nothing but chaos, uninvited noises and fear. Chaos because of all the time that I had wasted, noises of taunts that came from unmotivated mouths and fear of failure. I sat there silent and allowed my pen to run on the paper, to run far away from whatever I was experiencing.

The last drop of the oil in the lamp crackled as its soul rose up, burning with a bright yellow flame. The insects stayed there, being silent spectators to the departure of their love. The room started loosing its yellow accent as the fire blew out, handing over the throne to the moonlight.

I frowned. I was disappointed. It seemed as though the lamp was mocking my situation and the chore of reigniting the fire was a token of this mockery! I kept my pen and diary on the table, folded my arms and sat there for a while, staring into nothingness.

Drops of water trickled down the faucet. The last flock of birds flew back to their homes. The clock struck ten. The night had just begun its journey to rest in the dawn. I had just begun my journey to thrive in the burning fire of my ambitions. This thought prompted me to jump out of my brief meditation and surrender to the demands of the lamp.

I picked up a match box, some oil and started the fire. At first, it hesitated, as though it feared that it would not be able to fill in the shoes of its predecessor, but then, it chose to embrace its fear rather than fighting back. The fire allowed the fear to fuel its will and burnt even brighter than the one before it. I stood there for a while, with a smile on my face and a hope in my heart. A hope to embrace my fears just like the fire did!