My Will

Warning: This blog post is written solely for the purpose of giving an unprejudiced vent to the turmoil that has been occurring within me. If you happen to chance by this blog, it shall be read at your own will. I wouldn’t mind if you typecast me as just another whiner. Being in my shoes has its own charm which maybe good or omen- I won’t let you decide. Because it’s about being me and not you.

I won’t ever kill myself--officially called suicide. Never ever. Not because I’m an unrelenting positive person, which I won’t claim I am, but because I’m so disillusioned by my present life that I’m pretty convinced that my after life would be no better. From a dancing chirpy bird, I’ve become a crib-all within a span of one week after my 18th and the most unfortunate birthday. Maybe He wants me to grow up that way. In pain.

Somewhere, I was unlucky. Somewhere, it was my fault. My people supported me all this while. Few acted that they support me. But then again I realized, that people who’re with you throughout the worst of times are actually your own. Rest, are just, well, fine actors who live with a façade and ultimately have to die real. Maybe I didn’t require any of their words. Because, they only hurt me one way or the other. I wanted not their sympathy or empathy but just a warm shoulder to cry on and wipe away my tears myself. I didn’t want them to say anything pleasing or offer me undue hope but I wanted them to just stay by me and bear my imperfection with testing patience. When you’re wounded, even the gentle touch of a doctor would make your heart scream with pain. I didn't expect butchers in the process! But well, they exist everywhere. What would the world be if there were no saprotrophs who feed onto the decaying? They're essential. And worse still, even biologically speaking, most of the energy resides with them. Nature's ways are wonders. Or perhaps, I'm just perceiving it all wrong in the midst of misery.

They held me all this while. With cold ropes and iron-fists. Only to see me fall. Yet again. And again. I thought I had lost hope quite a while ago. But I held on to it till the very end. But seeing failures feasting your mind and soul isn’t a sight that would embody your best spirits. Not when you have so much at stake. And then your otherwise caring words started questioning my faith in myself. And finally you asked me to ask myself, Am I able? And I couldn’t answer the question. Not because I’d lost hope. But because I suspect I’d lost faith- in myself. I wouldn’t have lost it if I were left on my own, healing myself my own way. But when you confronted me and hammered the failure into my head, it made me cringe. I knew things would be fine soon. Not the best, but fine indeed. And I still know that. You may disown me for not earning the best for myself. It may make much difference for you, not for me. Or I think. My life is beautiful according to my eyes. Much more than anyone else's. It's not that I'm denying that I failed but it's only that I want to play down it's after-effects. I want to live. And that too with my own head.Is it too much that I ask from you?

I still want to trust myself. Don’t ask me for proofs or question my determination. I have no evidence to show you.

Alas, unfortunately.

I wish I had any.

I will soon.

Amen.