Everyone of us out there has some stories which we prefer not to speak about. Even to your best friend or closest of friends. These are the moments when you start feeling so helpless that all you want to do is speak out loud to the people who care for you. Maybe, anytime you are ready to let them know through your hints?
This is my story. The story I know a lot of you out there will relate but think about before reacting. Justified! The school years were exciting and fun. Everyone and literally everything seems so special that the one best of moment happening to you was just made for you to live it, in that moment. Nothing ever striked me except the fact that I had so many friends. How certainly innocent was I to share the unimportant yet happenings of my life to those people , who were to fly away tomorrow when they get the first chance to leave you. My mother always used to say that I had quite a number of friends. Sometimes that was irritating, but gradually that irritating self made idiom made sense. Quiet a heavy sense.
Certainly those random poking used to turn my mood off to such a level that it was very obvious of anyone in my place to revert back to it with an answer. I used to revolt and did, so much that maybe the checklist of friends in my life was a very proud thing I could boast about. Little did I knew that eventually I was going to make a big joke out of it. But when they started vanishing, I had everything piled up to be shared, to be heard for once because here I was with all the unsaid to be said out loud. Everything my mother once used to say me, now had a great deal of meaning.
They say , “share what you feel, it’s important to do so. We are here to listen.” Certainly when you share your part of the jerk , what you wait for is for them to listen and understand your side of the whole story and situation, your past or any random moment you did not feel okay. Life had been very adventurous for the past few years now. Even if you have a best friend , staying beside you for years, no matter what happens, it is not possible for you to open up to them too. That is that very moment you feel yourself all choked and find yourself in a spot, struggling. Maybe the circle being small at present is possitive in a way. We meet, we greet, they ask , they will to listen your side of the life you are living. But, that is when you understand and smile that you my dear , can’t share. Can’t share what you want to say, what you wanted to ask because there comes the unsaid being tragedic.
Fighting the battles aren’t easy. Who cares about that though? Adjusting yourself and fitting according to the present makes you so rigid that coming out of that zone becomes quiet difficult. Then there comes the fact that it’s better to not let the other side come in front because that ruins everything. Barely those 200 people I once knew were keeping a record of what was going on behind the happy faces and fun stories. Barely those countable friends of mine could know what I am going through. Barely was it possible, for any of it to happen. You start loosing your faith and stop explaining. At some point it feels like this shaped you to change in some way, but actually changing into a different personality was never a thing for me.
Don’t know what I must call it. Growth or stagnant water of what we call “life”. It is all so worthy yet unnecessary at the same time, that unsaid of almost everything did not matter because there you are all normal. Penning it down becomes confusing with twists of explaining the misery, but someone of you who might be feeling the same thing, will understand the depth of the suffering in this careless world.
“It was better when it began , all the best moments for us to live in. Love made its way to you with definitions varying over a highway. You knew ignoring would be a great time when you enjoyed getting the pleasure walk down to you. Little did you knew , that you were travelling and having your life in a metro. ”
~ Trayee Sarkar
Hello There 