Inspiration – A Free Source

Posted by Ziad on Mar 8, 2012 in The Thought | 11 comments

Written by Zoya Hasan: Attacking the dark, I devour its instants. Quietly as possible, for I keep nothing but my thoughts, unspoken.

Last morning I met somebody I consider special. Oh please! Refrain from smothering yourself with inane thoughts. I quite understand the idea of that stereotypical ‘someone special’. But trust me, I am too young to find the love of my life. To filter your anticipations already, I would like to mention that the mortal being was a female.
This was not the first time I got to sit with her. We usually hung out during recess, regardless of the fact that we differ in ages greatly. We share a lot in common; ideas, passions, possessions and much more. Even once, we ruminated if the two of us have been twins in some previous life. Stupid, yet an amusing thought… Somehow, we are almost exact copies. There was nothing much for me to seek from her, as we mostly had similar point of views about things. Logically, she’d think the same.

For everyone, I am a social freak. I make friends easily. Waving friends, smiling friends, bus fellows, café chums, classmates, seniors, juniors and a huge tractable lot. But I avoid discussions on very personal matters, because whenever I need to talk, the actual scenarios, situations, reasons of sudden emotional outbursts, all become inexplicable. Back one day, my aggression climaxed after the last severe fight in college. Past events eventually seemed to coincide and I ultimately ended up crying in a corner. The only wish I would have liked to get granted was for noone to see me. Like any typical teenager, my life, according to me, had ended. At sixteen, I was doomed to fail for life. Suffocated, suppressed, destroyed, and betrayed, I talked to the girl in the mirror, making her realize how stupid she’s been throughout. Eventually I decided to replace my jovial old self with a collapsed being, sitting in corners alone, escaping lightened rooms, avoiding laughter, and getting into terrible mood switches. I almost stopped painting, singing, writing; all the things that made me ‘me’. People noticed. Some ignored it naming it the ‘age factor’. Many thought I was taking things way too seriously. My so called friends didn’t really bother, as for them, I was quite normal and usual. People, very close to me, considered my attitude very weird and disturbing. All of them loved their lame-o, their joker, and wanted her back, real soon. But I couldn’t bring her back, really! As time went on, it became difficult for me to explain and life went on getting complicated.
I needed to find a person whom I could share my sorrows with. Like many others, she offered her time, but I really never gave it a thought. How could an older person, non-family, get to understand my domestic issues? She is not even my batch-mate at college. No, never! There seemed no way she would be able to get my probable reactions to circumstances.

Its all about Perspective

Few days back, I saw her breathing at a corner. Exactly the place where I cried, back on that day, after which my life apparently finished! Unfortunately, she seemed miserable, upset and when I observed closely, her eyes glimmered with tears. I was taken aback. The only thought fluctuating between my head and heart was that another life has finished. As we were completely similar in the aspect of trusting people, I wondered if she may have faced a betrayal. For condolence I headed toward her. Maybe if I tell her my stories, she will get to know that it’s not only her, whose life had ended at this very corner. For a while or so, I sat quietly beside her more like a statue, unable to decide whether I should be here or not. But ultimately she had noticed my presence and managed to pretend normal. Meanwhile, I tried to move my tongue, glued to the pallete all this time. But before I could completely start, she turned to me and spilled her soul. I never even imagined if all of that was inside her. Since when, I am not sure. But to collect a lot like hers, much time is required. She never seemed frustrated and broken ever before. After then, I supposed, she would ban life for herself. Will retreat in her tiny shell, exactly like a crab does. Like I did! But this was where our views for life clashed. Where I went wrong. She is twenty and had been through practical matters, faced society, and came up strong against very weakening situations. Her fight was not with any classmate, it was against society. In those few moments, she displayed all the dark patches in her history. Which somehow I thought were darker than mine. But soon, she was able to collect herself and stand firmly as she used to before. I was blinded by the sudden transformation and stared at her like a retard. She patted gently on my back and thanked me for being besides her, in the most terrible of circumstances. In a while she left but I remained there for God knows how long.

Last morning I accidently bumped into her. We had an instantaneous visual communication after which she grinned and greeted me warmly. I was not sure to ask about her wellbeing. So, I preferred continuing with some usual talk. There was something weird about her. An unexpected reaction, I must say. She was SMILING! Constantly. And it was not artificial. It seemed as if not even one of those miserable moments bothered her anymore. I was told to see her freshly updated sketch book. This clearly meant that she drew after whatever happened. She did not give up on painting or sketching. This was certainly one shock. She gave off vibes. Those of a woman strong enough, mentally and emotionally. Since last sixteen years of my life I have been cheating on myself. I have never been strong. Never ever! It was my ridiculous mistake or rather a great misunderstanding. I realized that we differ. A difference that lies in strength and fortitude.

That day my very ordinary friend earned herself another adjective. She is now special. Very special. She has become my inspiration for life. It’s complicated yet interesting to see how your perspective changes. One moment you decide to quit and the next to restart. How you realize where exactly you stand. And how smoothly even turns into odd. A different, positive and influential odd.

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