Thursday, 10 September 2020

Unsaid words

 

×××××××××@××××.com

[Draft 68]

 



Dear Amma,

 

This letter won’t reach you like most of the others, but I wanted to talk to you. Although I do talk to you regularly, I know you will deny it because most of the times it doesn’t reach you. It’s always easier to reach out through these unsaid words. I can share so many things that I can't say out loud.

 

Hopefully, this is one of my last letters. I can’t continue like this, Amma. I am so tired.

 

I am tired of dreading to wake up every morning. I am tired of crying at the thought of getting out of bed. Going to the office every day should not be this hard. At least, it wasn’t before.

I am tired of hiding my tears so that my colleagues won’t see them. It’s becoming overwhelming day-by-day to spend time with my colleagues and friends knowing that I will have to pretend to be okay in front of them.

 

I am running out of excuses as to why I can't join my colleagues for lunch or in their plans to hang out after work and I am sure they are tired of asking me by now. Soon, they will realize it’s not worth their time and stop asking me. It’s just so overwhelming. I can't seem to be able to be in touch with my old friends, either. All I feel is either stuck or numb.

 

Everyone around me is planning their future and working towards it. But for me, it's a struggle to even get through the day. I barely manage to do what is expected of me and that's not enough here. If things don’t change, I will be stuck in one place in my career too.

 

It feels like every time I try to pick myself up, something or the other is waiting around the corner to knock me down. I don't remember the last time I laughed spontaneously. I feel better when I call Appa and you, but not being able to tell you how I am feeling is so frustrating that I cry after every call.

 

I am tired of this life now, Amma. I am tired of my body and mind being tired all the time. I want to change this.

 

I am going to call you one of these days, Amma, I promise and maybe, try to say 2% of what I am feeling. Hoping you hear me and perhaps, understand that there is still a lot more that is unsaid. I know it won’t be as easy as having this one-way chat with you but at the same time, maybe it will be more fulfilling? I can only hope so and I will. Because I have already thought of a hundred different ways it can go wrong and I will probably think of a hundred more before I actually talk to you. It feels like that’s all I do these days.

 

I know things won’t change overnight but I want to at least try before giving up completely. I know you would want me to. I have taken contact of a counsellor from our office counsellor. It was her who suggested it when I couldn’t open up to her. She said I might be more comfortable outside the office space where I won’t have to worry about my colleagues finding about it. I promise I will contact the counsellor when I am ready or when I am tired enough.

 

Love,

 

 

Sunday, 6 September 2020

Overlooked Series [Parts 2 & 3]


Glass half overlooked




2. A letter


(June 2015)

Dear Charu,

It feels strange to write 'dear' before your name since we hardly know each other. And I have deliberately kept it that way. Because somehow, I feel like it doesn't matter how much we bond. I know that I can never be truly honest with you about how I feel and what I want. Not just about us but about everything. I can't be honest to anyone for that matter. Please don't take it personally. Please don't take any of this personally. And this marriage...

Huh... I can't even say don't take this marriage personally.

I wish I was brave enough. Brave enough to accept myself. Brave enough to say yes to myself. Brave enough to say no to this marriage.

Brave enough to give this letter to you. Brave enough to save you from this quicksand. But how can I? I couldn’t even save myself.

I am not even brave enough to ask for your forgiveness. Don’t worry though. Even if one day, I am brave enough to apologize and you are kind enough to forgive me, I will never forgive myself.

With all of my aching heart,

 

-×-

 

3. Blank


(January 2016)


Charu just stood there. Idle and blank. She was neither devastated nor relieved. The only feeling was...exploited. By her own people. Six months ago, her parents pushed her into this marriage. No, she was not forced. She always wondered, had she said no to their repeated insistence, would they have forced her into the marriage? She didn't want to go in that direction. She never could.

She was born with this curse. Well, it had turned out to be a curse over time. She could easily put herself in others' shoes. She could understand why they did what they did. Once one knows that, there is absolutely no scope for misunderstanding. For a blame-game.  She could comprehend why her parents insisted her. That's how they were raised. Her striving to be free-spirited and independent was more than they could take in. She had not only accepted the marriage proposal but decided to give it a fair chance and accept her partner with all her heart.

But here she was, pranked by her own fate. There was never a fair shot at this. Her in-laws begged her not to disclose the reason behind the separation. There was no remorse in their request. For the first time, while she couldn’t help but victimize herself, she almost pitied her husband. That was a fallen, disregarded leaf that she will pick up some other day. But for now…

For now, she stepped out of that house and left all these thoughts behind.

-×-

Letting go

"Yaar, matlab main kar sakti hu but mere se ab ho nahi payega" This was the first thing I heard as soon as Shreya opened the door....