A New Chapter

Each one has a hell. Each one has a heaven. The tides of time take us through the worst of times and the best of times. Sometimes, the best and the worst happen together. It is like fire and ice.

I went through my own kind of hell this last one year. The person I was 2 years ago is long lost somewhere, to be replaced by someone much meaner, quieter but stronger. People tend to judge other people’s lives by the chapter they’ve just met them in. Same happened with me. But that is hardly the point.

When Maa died, the worst was over, or so I thought. The worst is apparently not the event- it is the suffering after. None of my friends knew what to say or how to act around me. They preferred ignorance over the truth. That became fine by me- because really, who wants to be around a mourning person anyway? Fast forwarding a bit, I stopped believing in friends. Only Papa was my support. I didn’t talk to anyone; I pushed everyone away. People started getting scared of me. I became rude and mean and utterly alone.

I won’t lie and say that I am fine. I have gone through one hell of a rollercoaster -I am not the person I used to be. I used to be happy and I used to be strong. I am not completely okay yet; I try to be. I am not completely resistant to being emotional yet; I try to be. It is not easy but then who said it would be?

When I shifted here, I shifted away from Papa and these people I came to love. I felt alone and vulnerable. I wasn’t yet ready to face the cruel world just after being exposed to the harshness of life. But life isn’t fair, is it?

After Maa’s death, lots of things changed. We were a family of 5 living in Noida for the last 12 years. We shifted to South Delhi to accommodate the new members of the family. Within one year, the initial family of 5 scattered to different parts of the country. Varun went to Pune, Aditya went to Alwar and I shifted to Gondia.

I first lost my mother and was forced to grow up. Then I shifted to a new area. Then I shifted to a new state, completely alone, knowing that Papa is at home, without the 4 people he had lived with for 20 years. How could I be happy moving out? Had it just been a simple hostel life transition, I am sure I would have been a very different person. But this was extremely difficult. The emotional rollercoaster had just started. I felt newer emotions. I felt scared. I had always believed that come what may, I will handle it. Now I came face to face with fear. I came face to face with self-pity. I came face to face with reality.

People call me depressed and they say I should learn to smile. They call me boring for not having a drink. They call me lonely for not walking in a group, bitching about the world. But who are these people? Another day, another crowd. People talk, no matter what.

I went from being the person who kept the family together to someone with no identity. Naturally I grew quieter.  The mental turmoil I went through because of living alone is altogether another story. I went through a different kind of hell, bourn out of utter boredom and absolutely nothing to do and no one to talk to.

Like everything else, I know this is also a phase. The survival rate till now has been 100%. I am sure I can survive through this too. It is just taking longer than usual but that is okay for I have been through something harsher than usual. Life always goes on. The sun always rises. Without pain, there can never be an indication of what one truly has. Hell is needed to realize heaven’s worth.

I guess I will get there soon. I have always lived in the same pond. Now that I am paddling to the river, it is natural to be scared. Now that the water is not that fast, I can sit on the rocks and enjoy the sunset too.