Monday, January 16, 2012

The Haunted

It was...

One of those moments when the cold feeling she worked so hard to run away from, finally caught up with her. Slamming into her so hard, that she was left gasping. These were the moments when she stood face to face with her stillness, when she could no longer mute the noise within, instead the noise of the world and the life she was a part of, stood muted, by the roar of the storm that was raging within. Moments when she found herself  helplessly churning within the whirlpool of her choked up emotions, throttled self, locked up desires, chained dreams struggling to break free from the chains that held them,. 

She knew that cold touch. 

It was the touch of loneliness, her old nemesis, that relentlessly haunted her and It left her shivering. These were the moments when the emptiness that came with her loneliness felt like a huge burden she was dragging around.

She struggled to hold herself together, till she could get away from the world and lock herself within those comforting walls of her washroom, where she could watch herself break into pieces, feeling the stab of pain that came with every piece that broke, a place where the cry that came with every stab would go unheard. Where she could be left alone to struggle with the questions that had no answers, the problems that had no solutions.

She struggled to hold herself together, till she could slump against those stone cold walls and find comfort against the unyielding stone. While the tears washed away the grief that she could no longer hold within. 

And then She let the tears flow. These tears knew her story, they knew her, her pain, her emptiness, her desires, her longings, her joy, her ecstasy, they knew her like none other, they were her solitary solace, those tears, those cold stone walls and the silently gazing mirror. Before them she was a mask less naked soul, without any charade.

She held herself tightly with her arms, wishing that another hand would reach out to her, and knowing full well there would be none, she let the warmth of the tears caress and heal her. 

She did not know for how long it lasted, for how long she had wept, how many tears she had shed.

Before the storm finally passed over. And emptied of emotion, she felt the calm seep in. Slowly she found her strength return from within. She stood up facing the mirror, and within the very mirror where she had watched herself shatter, she saw her self regenerating.

The questions still remained and the problems were still unsolved, but she had found within herself the strength to begin again, her lonely journey to find the answers she sought and the hope that someday she would walk down her road, holding the hand she had always waited to hold.



Suz said...

oh my ...such heartache
another path must be the answer..for this one always leads to the same place
and life is so beautiful
as is she...

Anonymous said...

heartbreaking yet beautiful.

Rachit said...

engrossing & beautiful :)

Weakest LINK

meeta said...

@Suz yes life is beautiful and so is she, that is why she moves searching for another path...but that one still eludes her..may she find her road soon. till then she shall wander

meeta said...

@ariyathe thanks for dropping by and thank u for the comment :)

meeta said...

@Rachit thanku for the read and the comment :)

Vivek said...

Reminded me of Anita Desai's style.

meeta said...

@Vivek thanks :)