Saturday, January 31, 2009


Over the course of time she has come to be subdued in her nature. Once a go-getter and never one to be intimidated by situation or people, she is now content to recline to the backseat - cruising along a path littered with bags of regrets and shattered dreams.

He looks at me in the eye and I glare back. 'I dare you to move me from where I am, coz nobody's getting me out of here. If I have to move, I will move myself.'

He withdraws his gaze and retreats, as if frightened by my threat. Again, I have been a pain not just to my surroundings, but to myself. I am stuck, and I am here to stay.

Truth is I wish not. But I realise this is my lot - that change doesn't come from others making the case for me, but the hard work rests with me. If I want to get out of my situation, I have to do so by my own will, strength and might.

Trouble is, I have none of the three - will, strength and might. Months and months of routine and mundane responsibilities root me deeper into the black cushioned seat. Sometimes I get a cold from the inactivity, sometimes I walk to the bathroom and cry.

He refuses to give up and comes round one more time. What do you want to achieve out there? I soften at his question, realising he meant genuine concern and would help if I let him.

'I don't know, really. I thought I am a go-getter and I have answers to everything, especially about things concerning my life. But I am wrong. I don't know what I want now. I want to be a story teller, but it sounds too idealistic to be achieved. And hang on, I know what you are going to tell me - that as long as I can dream it, anything is possible - I can achieve it. I have come not to believe in those tales anymore.'

He sees the forlorn look in my eyes and feels a pang in his own heart. I know, because I know him. He feels this way about anyone lost. And I am lost. The one others thought is admirable and indestructible - is held captive by her own prison.

The pain in my head throbs more violently. I wince like a caterpillar crushed under someone's foot. 'Help me get out of here,' I hold his hand and plead sincerely.


'I can be helped, I know I can. Don't let me stay this way. Help me through this blackness. I will be useful again.'

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