Unscrambled eggs

It was two in the afternoon. I could hear the noises outside. People were crying; they were upset. I wasn’t upset… just scared. I knew things would change and hoped for good. That night I locked myself up so that no one can see me. As it is, I am not very good around people, I haven’t had a decent conversation with someone in three years. The following morning was the ceremony at the church. I wore an ill-fitted black dress that belonged to my mother. When I reached the church they asked me to say a few words about her, I stood up and felt a lump in my throat. I didn’t know her. I never liked her. She never was there for me; she saw what dad did to me, yet never interfered. “I will miss her.” I lied. I just knew what they wanted to hear. There was a big lunch at home; I hadn’t eaten properly in years. I picked up a big slice of cake and started eating in one corner. People gave me and my dad sympathising looks. I looked at my dad and knew he was upset, whatever he did with me for all these years… but he loved her. The day he found she had cancer and she wouldn’t live, he held me and cried all night. It was right after that it all started. Three years back, still as clear as yesterday. My mom came into my room and explained to me that from now on my dad will love me a little more. I had not understood then as I was just thirteen. She held me and cried and kept giving me pills so I don’t get pregnant. I don’t blame her entirely, he would beat both of us and she feared he would kill me if I don’t let him have sex with me.
I loved him and assumed that he loved me and did all that because he loved me more. I had always known that I was adopted, but even as a kid he used to take me to play and help me with my homework. While mom was always out with her work or friends, she never was home for my birthdays. I never took her side when dad and she used to fight, not even when I knew dad was wrong. I always thought dad should have left her,
till she got very ill. I felt bad for her. I used to help her during the day, and in the night dad used to come drunk and would beat her up. Then he used to come in my room and have sex with me. He used to hit me as blood excited him more. I felt so guilty that I stopped talking to anyone in school. My grades were affected and everyone assumed it was because my mother is ill. He was a respected man and no
one would ever think of him doing such things about him. After everyone had left, I went to take a shower and changed into something casual. I could hear him talk to someone on phone and my head was swirling, so I lied down on the bed that once felt safe, but was not anymore. I slept off. After an hour I got up with a start. I saw him coming in. I was scared. I pretended to sleep but that didn’t help, he knew I was up. He told me that from that day on I would be staying in his room. For a minute, I thought he was a changed person and would apologise, but I was not
prepared to take his wife’s position. I knew I couldn’t say no, or else he would beat me.
He used to tell me that I had no one except him, no one in this world loved me and sex is the only thing I am good at. I was scared and knew with mom not around he would have his way with me whenever he wanted.I was scared but I submitted to him. That night after I dinner I went to his room. He came following me and pushed me to the bed he removed his clothes and pulled my night-gown up. I tried to block my thoughts, otherwise I would feel sick and that would excite him more. He used to get excited if I was sick, or even when I had periods. I felt him go deep in me. He applied so much force that I thought I would die. After he was done, he lied there on me while I could feel his heavy breath on my face. He got up and kissed me on my cheeks, he always did that when I was good.I love it when he does that, it assures me that he still loves me.
I tried to sleep but couldn’t. I knew things would not be the same; I would never be the same. My dad has always liked collecting whiskies and wines. The oldest one he had was a 38 years-old bottle of whiskey. I opened the bottle and drank it. It burnt my throat. It started to itch but the pain I felt inside me was far more. I drank and drank and puked all over, I lighted up a cigarette for myself, but not with the intention to smoke. I put it on my arm. It pained so much that I thought I would die. Nothing could soothe my pain today. I went for a shower to clean myself. Nevertheless, I felt dirty. the soap wasn’t able to clean me. I ran back to the kitchen shelf, I was still wet. I picked up a knife and took it to my room. Pushing the drapes to the sides of the window and seeing the stars made me feel safe. I sat there teary eyed as I felt the sharp knife slice into my skin. I cut myself till I was drowsy and soon I peacefully slept off on my bed which was once the safest place in the whole world.

Happy endings are just stories that haven't finished yet

The alarm rang, she knew she had to get up and get ready for office else she would be late for her meeting. Working on a presentation for her boss kept her up till 2 after mid night, she felt weak and tired. The lack of sleep and the fear of presentation had made her twist and turn all night. She tried getting up but her back hurt. With tired weary hands she picked up her phone from the side of the bed there were three new messages. The first one was from her boss to remind her not to be late to work. The second one from some random phone company message,” they have nothing else to do than spam my phone.” The third message made her blush and smile, ”hey, good morning,I know you must be tired and sleeping peacefully by now, all I want to say is nothing in the world, I'd rather want than to be with you right now. I love you more than anything Nishtha.” With a smile on her face, forgetting all the tension she got up and started her morning errands. She got ready and thought she would have to leave without her breakfast but to her surprise her roommate hadalready made a sandwich for her. It was a hot day, but she didn’t care. She picked up her car keys and walked towards the parking lot. There was a skip in her walk and all she did was think about him and smile. Till then she had read the message thrice, the day started well as she thought to herself, ”I hope the presentation goes well too.” The traffic bothered her a little but soon she reached office and the clock kept ticking. All her work was appreciated, the presentation went well. The phone rang around lunch, she knew who it was. “hello, my boss loved my work, my presentation went well. I am so so happy. Ye ye ye and (short pause and with a giggle) I love you.” He smiled gently as if he understood exactly what she meant and hoped she was there next to him, wanted to hold her tight, kiss her on her forehead and tell her that he was proud of her, he just didn’t know how to explain it to her. It was a really busy day she thought to herself as she cursed the government for such bad infrastructure and poor traffic sense of people. The radio blaring out loud in her car with the radio jockey going on and on with his stupid jokes irritated her even more, as she scrolled through the channels she came across Rod Stewart’s ‘have I told you lately that I love you’. She couldn’t stop but think of him, she tried calling him but he was in a meeting and kept cutting. She trusted him more than ever and she knew he was the one. It all started when they met for the first time and their friend teased her that they are perfect for each other, the jokes grew and they never realized when they started liking each other so much. They were not in a relationship, not even in the same town but they felt connected. She always thought it was just one sided liking till one day he mailed her ,” I can’t help but think how beautiful you'd be looking right now, sleeping with your both fists clasped together and your head cutely over it . A serene expression on your face dreaming of everything in the world. Knees folded under the sheet; can’t help it but imagine the dim moonlight falling on your face making it look like something; something from a poet's dream. I just want to be with you.... I want to be the shoulder you put your head on to and I want to rub my cheek lightly against yours and say slowly ....dream all you can, I am there to shoulder them” she repeated the lines to herself.

She knew he loved her more than she did, but he was too scared to admit as she had once told him that she was scared of relationships.

Months passed in the same way and their loved grew deeper and stronger. But the busy schedule kept them from talking to each other for long. She kept calling he kept telling her about his zillion meetings he had to attend and projects and things became weird. They had more fights than ever, his aloof reactions bothered her. She was scared for them and one day he stopped picking up or even replying to her messages. She called so many times and his phone was off, she knew something was wrong. His facebook said everything; he was in a relationship with someone. Nishtha cried and cried and could not understand any of it. “How could he do that to her and why” was all she could think of. She called for a month but no one picked.

After a long time she receives a mail from him,” Nishtha, I love you but I can’t be with you because this girl is crazy and she will die if I don’t be with her.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she read the mail. She couldn’t get it, “if he loves me, he should be with me. What about me, what about my dying inside every day, hoping that one day you will come back. What about my going through the long mails u sent me, the messages…. “ she loved him too much and she was wrong she was alone, he didn’t love her, he just liked her and now he is gone and would never come back. She didn’t know if he was right or wrong, all she knew was that she was left alone. That night once again she cried herself to sleep again...

Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once

The heat is on, it is getting to me. The heat is fatal. Now to think about, last few days have been rather complicated. When there is too much on the plate, you never know where to start and with what, too much to do and just not knowing where to start and with what and when you do start there is that continued feel of all the other that needs to be done. So it all ends up in a fix.

A few days back, a girl came to me crying and opened up her past for me. A very strong willed girl I must say. She and her very good friend were out on a drive, things were fine they were talking, having some beers and discussing life. They stopped at a couple of places had food at a restaurant things were fine. In the evening before dropping her, the guy came close to her kissed her on. It was nice, both felt something very strong. After some days they met and this continued and they got a little more intimate. The guy fell in love with the girl. While the girl still liked him as a friend. Even after thinking a lot the girl wasn’t able to think of him as someone more than a friend. Thinking she would hurt the guy more, she started ignoring him and the guy started thinking that the girl used him. She tried to tell him, make him understand but he wouldn’t listen. I don’t blame him, he loved her. The girl tried to go back to the good friends they were, but things were not the same. Slowly they parted ways. The guy moved on with his life. But the girl still sits there thinking that maybe she used him. She cried and cried, I couldn’t stop thinking about it later. The guy moved on, and so should she I told her. I told her it was past, it was long back.

She was looking for someone to understand her, someone to tell her that she is not a bad person. I hope she felt better after she went home. The question just stayed in my head, how people keep blaming themselves for things happened way in the past and cling to the bad memories more than the good ones.

Maybe after that day even I am thinking too much about the mistakes I did in the past, maybe I m blaming myself unnecessarily. To think about it now, were they really mistakes? No one tries to fail or mess things up on purpose. Each one of us wakes up in the morning, walks out in the world and does the best we can. Understand it is important to take responsibility of your mistakes, but it doesn’t mean you let your past grip you.

I want to ask you all; do u think she is wrong? Do you think she should spend all her life crying about a mistake she did? Do you think we should seize our mistakes and keep feeling guilty it happened?