Thanks, Priyanka for hosting this creative post, giving me a prompt and firing my imaginative and crazy bulb. I am doing a fiction with the line provided by her. You can follow her Facebook page. Priyanka Joshi Nair is one of the most talented writers and bloggers I know, a kind soul and one of my most prized friends. We became friends this year only on the online space.
Questioning me for being myself
Questioning me for being myself…I stood on the edge of the balcony and felt dizzy looking down at the road, cars appearing smaller from a distance and the Arabian sea looking calm. Everything felt weird. I thought, “There must be a better way to die without pain in the entire Mumbai.” My head was spinning imagining the body oscillating in the air and crashing on the road with blood oozing. My head twitched and spun. I readily clutched the pillar and got down to safety on the balcony.
In the fleeting moment, I thought that would slip from altitude and die…wouldn’t the perfect crime passed an accident. But, no, everyone will call it suicide. After all, who falls down off the 10th floor of a building! I am a coward! Zia left me for someone better. She didn’t even send a Whatsapp message or a letter, just pretended I don’t exist. My parents think I am worthless for refusing to marry the daughter of Papa’s boss and saying their son is a selfish fool.
Neighbors, immediate family and relatives question me for almost every small thing, daring to go against them and for being myself. I am scorned upon for not fitting with their stupidity. I fix at the flower-pot. Will I ever bloom! Never! I counted seconds, minutes and hour. I stood still like a statue. A scary voice shouted, “You are a coward and lack spine to take your life.” My head splintered like a bomb exploding and blowing me into shard. Can death make me myself? Figuring out ways to kill myself and take revenge on this world for questioning my values and beliefs, I should jump in the sea. Will it matter to them? Should I inhale cyanide? Will she cry?
Zia! My death wouldn’t make an ounce of difference to her. I am persuaded. Should I jump one last time? A strange fear clutched my legs. I can’t move an inch. Perhaps, the time has come to postpone death and attempt another time. I shall try harder not be questioned for being myself. Can’t let them have it easy!