The lesson is this: it never is anyone’s (or the person’s) fault for not treating you with respect. Nor that ‘good’ friend’s fault who is being sleazy with you and then yells at you with indignation saying, “it was a joke!” It’s not that person’s fault either for not giving you the time from his/her life. It’s not their fault for treating you, the way you are being right now.
It’s yours. It was mine.
Because, you (and I) let them. You let them talk to like that, because you thought it’s fine and allowed them to. You let them talk/treat you like that because you wanted to please them and not cause any conflicts. You didn’t respect your own time and then expecte others to respect yours? I did too.
The thing is this: What have you done to make it stop? Have you first treated yourself right? Have you spoken your mind, without of course hurting the receivers’ sentiments? Have you stood your ground, with your beliefs, without wondering if this will break the relationship?
Let’s do that first: Treat ourselves right. Then let’s see if things change.
The movie by the way was a Marathi movie called, “Me Shivajiraje Bhosale Boltoy“. Overdone, but with a great, great lesson: You don’t demand respect. You earn it.
She was genuine and honest, he said
He was polite and gentleman like, she said
Yet, he never used words to end it
There were no signs she could read anyway
He has become a ghost
She was left nursing an abandoned heart
White lab coat hung loosely over her navy blue scrubs. That was her superhero suit hidden behind her civil wear.
It was after midnight and she was needed. The stethoscope hung around her neck as she ran to tend to her patient. Her white coat almost fluttered like a cape behind her.
“What is sleep?” She wondered as she tried resusitated a failing man’s heart at the wee hours of the morning. But his sickness over came him and the man in black took him away, without a second glance at the woman sitting in white with her hands on his heart.
She quickly got up. Accepted. Took the next steps and tended to the next patient in need.
Time passed by. She didn’t realise. And just like that, it was the end of her shift. It was time to take off her white coat, get back in her civil wear.
Breathe. She could finally breathe.
She fought against death. She saw death. Every day. Yet, she walked back home. Pulled her 3 year old in her arms and celebrated life.
Such is the circle of life.
It didn’t work out. You put yourself out there, got out of your bubble and took a chance. It still didn’t work out.
There will be a lit bit of tightness in your chest. Find it difficult to breathe when you think of it again and again: That it didn’t work out. That you’ll have to do it all over again.
“Failed”, you’ll think.
But, so what?
Feel sad for a while. That’s ok. Like John Green said, “Pain demands to be felt!”
But stay in there. Don’t do anything hasty. Feel it for a while.
Then pick yourself up, get back in control and start all over again.
Remember that small window when you put yourself out there? The window that reminded you of how beautiful life can be? Hold on to that. Fight for that.
Live for that window.
It’s not over yet.
The wait. The horrible, horrible wait…
An unanswered call
The “ignored” texts
The dreadful Mondays
The unasked questions
The ambiguous answers
The unmatched actions
Words, they are just words you say…
The forgotten callbacks
The unfollowed plans
Those unsaid words
Life. The unberableness of life.
Forehead breaks into sweat
The untamed heartbeat
The unruly mind
Panic induced adrenaline rush!
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe
Remember to breathe.
She holds her hand
The touch. That comforting touch.
Heart bursts. Quivering lips.
“Don’t cry”, she says
Stillness and her breath
Some more deep breaths
And just like that, anxiety fades
It was a messy day because of a messy project at work. The work came back home with me, with its fingers intertwined in mine. It demanded my attention. It was clingy. It refused to let me leave it alone for more than 5 mins. An ideal messy day that not even a workoholic would like.
So, that evening I sat down with it right in front of me. When this little being of mine came running in. Her anklets tinkling was a dead give away of her arrival. She came squeaking my name. Climbed on my bed. Sat next to my work and started talking. Talking in a language that was clear and apparently coherent according to her. It was babble to me. It was so refreshing and tempting that I wrapped up faster than I normally would.
The kiddie, babble conversation I had with her later was the best part of the day. I had missed the most important part of my day till I narrated all the unwanted “ghory” specifs to him when he asked, “How was your day?” And he politely responded by reminding me how my little being fixed a messy day. In his perspective, I had an awesome day with the best work buddy in baby world.
She looked forward to the day. The exact time of the day, to be precise, when she would lay her eyes on him. It had almost been an year.
When he called her to announce, “I’m here!” she couldn’t hold back the bounce in her strides, as she walked towards him. And when she saw him, she hurled herself at him, and took the long pending bear hug from him.
Just the thing she needed.
He held the strings that bound her, untangled them gently so that she could slowly breathe. The first breath she took cracked the high wall of pretense she had built around her. She took another deep breath and she found herself unravel in his arms.
Her vulnerability lay bare in front of him.
They sat next to each other on the bench. Leaves crackled as they shifted their feet. The winter afternoon heat warm on their backs. His arms around her shoulder. Her hands resting on her thighs. They sat for a while. Her emotions finally found words and they flowed from her lips. The unspoken, unseen weight slowly lifting from her shoulders.
Trusting that he can take it all, she unfolded. And he did.
Though they felt stillness around them, the time kept ticking. Finally it was time to leave, with a promise to see each other soon again.
As they both walked away in the opposite directions, she walked away with strength and courage to live from him. And he, with a bit of her soul.
I guess I always knew it, but I refused to accept it. Untill I was forced to acknowledge it during a training session. It was an activity, the trainer had said. He handed out A4 sheets, a sharpie and couple of colour markers around and asked us to draw. At first it was guided. Simple drawings. When it came to combining those simple drawings to create something unique out of our imagination, everyone, including me, stopped.
He chuckled and asked, “Did you guys never draw as a child?” “No one is going to watch you. No one is going to judge you either. You do you.” He said.
It took a while, but slowly everyone got comfortable in their skin. Comfortable enough to show what came out of their mind. Merge it again with everyone else’s creative mind to create something absolute. Ok, almost absolute.
Thus, the trainer had emphasized, “Think Alone. Think Together.” Creativity isn’t dead. It still is very alive in every one of us. Just that there is a barrier that stops us from exploring our potential.
I made this with a play dough while playing with my 3 year old niece today. It was almost like getting into a meditative state and let my mind break the barrier. I knew it was ugly. But my little one found it funny enough to lift it. Look at it. Talk about it. Play with it. And then take pleasure in crushing it back in the play dough box.
I am now no longer embarrassed of whatever, in the name of art, comes out of me.
What’s a human without any trust over another human or any ounce of hope that maybe, just maybe, things might be different for him/her?
It this what is called as merely existing?
She had “stolen” the light. She ran away. Stood by the door and slowly opened her arms. A white glow spread over her face. She had the light trapped between her tiny hands. It was hers now.
She smiled. Her curiosity piqued. She turned it up and then down. She shook it left then tried tossing it towards her right. The light still shone bright.
Finally, she clutched it tight and raised it above her head with a happy smile. Seemed triumphant. There was her firefly inside her balled hands.