EMPTY PAGES EPISODE 13

 

#82 One Day

Her fingers trembled as she picked up the pen to strike off the last item on her list. She had spent a majority of her life making lists. Ticking items off them had made her happy.

This wasn’t one such day. She didn’t know what to do next. She had been told she had 6 months to live. She had chosen not to try to prolong her misery. She wanted to go in one piece. That’s what she told herself everyday.

Her list had grown over the years — there was never enough time, money or something else. It was always to be done “One day” — till the one day was every day.She finally understood — one day at a time. For days seemed to stretch on forever, while years passed by in a blink.

As she ticked items off, she wondered why she hadn’t done this before she was rushed into it. Why had she prioritised everything else — money, EMIs, people’s opinions, everything ..over herself.

Today, everything on her list had been done. There was nothing left to do. Nothing left to live for. She had done everything she had wished to do in a lifetime. Now what?

She was idly flicking through the newspaper as she thought about her life plans. She didn’t have enough time to take up a job, but if she did, what was the point of it anyway? Maybe she’d volunteer to do something. Her brain was buzzing with ideas, of things she’d love to experiment with. Like the spark before the lights went out.

#83 Clean & Clear

The water was flowing freely just as the thoughts were. The water hit the floor and was guzzled by the drain. The thoughts though were circling around his head.

It was now that he wondered about how the air inside his nose right now was the same air that had been inside every celebrity ever. Even the dead ones. What would a human’s day seem like to a dog? It would seem we rested for years and took decades to poop? Nobody ever said — Oh My Goddess!Not even the feminists. Should that have been a red?

There was such clarity about life plans. Such curiosity about life itself and the questions nobody asked. And then more about thoughts nobody would admit to in public. Just him, his thoughts, and the water.

If there was one place that brought him inner peace it was here. Surprisingly it lasted only as long as he was in there. Once a dry human with a phone, he would be sucked like the sullage into the pool of mental waste. Maybe showers weren’t to clean your body as much as they were to clear your head.

#84 Monsters

She hated them for all they had done. She hated the fact that they roamed freely while others suffered. She hated that they never got punished for all the pain they brought on others. For the lakes of tears they had created.

She spent every minute of her day seething with anger. Thinking of ways she would hurt them if she had the chance. The monsters shouldn’t live. They shouldn’t have the chance to be happy, to enjoy the destruction they caused.

Her hatred only concentrated over the years, like stored venom. It was now a part of her. Hidden away, waiting to be unleashed. It didn’t kill her, it didn’t make her stronger. It did take up a lot of space though — in her mind, in her day. It killed minutes as it could have killed her enemies.

She found herself thinking things she would have never thought, wanting to do deeds she’d never have imagined herself doing? Over days she seemed the same, but over years she could feel the change. Maybe her thirst to kill the monsters had made her one too…

#85 Sun and Moon

They were yelling at each other — loud enough for the neighbours to follow the conversation. She had come back late last night and forgotten where she had left the keys. Had she left it outside the door?

Her mother was talking to her about responsibility. She was responsible. The incisive words were ricocheting around the house now as they both argued. They loved each other more than anything else. They were all they had. She just wished she had some space to breathe, to be something other than “us”.

To her mother — she was all she had. There was nothing left for her. Nothing she cared about more than the only child she had. Everything that had mattered in the past had evaporated.

If love was a sword — they were sharpening it. Defending themselves, hurting each other. Till they couldn’t fight anymore. Hurting the other hurt as much as being hurt. The fights were pointless.

She wanted her mother to think about herself too. Her own life. Identity. Interests. She wanted to say — Try focussing more on your life and less on mine.

Her mother quietly was getting back to work. She was living her life but through her child. She could give up on herself at any time, as she always had. Her aims. Her dreams. But her child’s dreams? Never. It kept her alive. She was not being a satellite, revolving around her child. She was being the force that would keep her in her orbit. Someday her child would know the difference between the Sun and the Moon.

#86 Fuse rope

She didn’t want to see him again. Not after the torture he put her through. All those years she had spent in fear, fear for her life. Fear of the unknown. She would lay in the night not knowing if she would wake up the next morning.

She grew very good at concealing the scars that he made every day. There was story behind each one, a deep painful memory. The skin healed mostly, the hurt would not. She seemed whole as a person but was a shell with these nails pierced throughout her being.

She had struggled with it all her life. Blaming herself. Wondering if she was the reason why. Till she realised it had nothing to do with what she wanted, said or did. This wasn’t her demon to fight.

She tried saving her family. She tried telling her mother she should leave while she could. Run away if they needed to. But her mother wouldn’t leave. Stubborn. She begged and pleaded but her mother was a moth determined to die in the flame.

She left before it burnt her too. Cutting all ties, cutting that fuse rope. She would not let them destroy her. She was terrified all along, terrified they’d find her. Terrified they’d pull her back. Terrified she’d fail and he’d have the last laugh. Yet it was this or nothing.

Watching him stand in front of her made her insides burn. The possibilities. She told him to leave. She couldn’t afford to be ripped apart another time. She didn’t ask him what he wanted — he had never asked her that ever.

He turned to leave, leaving her with the sharp words — I thought someone should tell you that your mother has died.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to mourn her mother’s death. Mourn that she would never see her mother again. It brought her a strange sense of peace though. He would never be able to hurt them again.