Plights of the Wistful Heart

“Ornate skies are nothing but an illusion of beauty, don’t you think? The stars abscond with darkness and leave behind emptiness so profound. What stays is the moon, whose presence is oblivious to most.” said Jane, her voice drowned in melancholy.


“Ornate skies are nothing but an illusion of beauty, don’t you think? The stars abscond with darkness and leave behind emptiness so profound. What stays is the moon, whose presence is oblivious to most.” said Jane, her voice drowned in melancholy.
“The transient nature of the night skies is what makes it so alluring, my love. Imagine seeing myriad stars every minute, the sun never rising to claim its shrine. Wouldn’t that be a boring life? ” asked Richard’s voice in the tone ever so soft, so soothing.
“But I don’t like the sunshine, dear! The rays, that once felt so warm and welcome, now come as a reminder of another day I hadn’t asked for. What is sunshine without someone I can share it with? ” Her voice quivered as she spoke out.
“Sunshine can be shared with anyone, dear. Do you not realize that there are lives who long to see you feel the daylight on your face? Do you not feel the intensity of their yearnings? Could you please, for once, let your paralyzed senses free themselves from this self-afflicted pain?”

His voice echoed in her mind for a while. She let herself think of the people who mattered. Sarah, their beloved daughter who had Richard’s smile and Josh, their cheerful son whom Richard used to call ‘tiger’ because of his dauntless nature. These two were the reason why she was still breathing. Their existence was a sole reason she could live for.

“Drowning in sorrows is a temporary escape from reality. That much I understand. How am I supposed to go on when I don’t even realize my existence anymore? How can I cherish the daylight when my real sun has set never to rise again?” Jane’s sobs muffled her voice.
“So what if the sun has set, dear? You will find new horizons where you can discover it again. Time cannot be altered, nor can it be brought back. You have the gift of memories. We lived a happy life, my love. That is what matters the most. You had always been my guiding light. Let me tell you this, there hadn’t been a single day I didn’t thank the heavens for sending me the most beautiful angel there was. My life had been an empty canvas that came alive with the colours you spread. I loved you in every moment of my life. My life had started the very moment I met you. I have always loved you, dear, and if there is the slightest possibility, I will wait for you on the other side. You must live for our children and for your own sake. Watching you suffer is the last thing I want to do before departure. Live, please.”
Gentle gush of wind swept in through the window and scattered the letters around. The sound awakened Jane. She had fallen asleep on the recliner. Yet again, she had dreamt of Richard. It had been four months since he passed away, the pain was still the same. She collected the papers and held them against her bosom, for they were a dear possession of hers: his love letters. Reading them every day had become a ritual to her. She pressed the letters to her lips and smiled tearfully. Casting a final glance, she put the letters inside a wooden box and locked it before placing it inside her closet.

Mucked up state of mind

“Stop it! You’re hurting everyone!”, screamed daddy.

I’m breaking cups from my mom’s collection, neatly showcased in a wooden rack she bought from an antique shop whilst showpiece hunting. It has beautiful floral carvings, purely a work of dexterous hands. Mom is sitting on a chair near dining hall, her beautiful face now smeared with tears. I’m bombarding the wooden floor with every breakable item in sight. My feelings are a hysterical smorgasbord of rage, pain, detest and paranoia. 

A bitty voice in my head is telling me to stop. How am I supposed to grapple with this whirlwind of emotions? Vehemence is the only way I know. The easy way. My parents, who love me much, have failed to infer my feelings. Sometimes I feel like they don’t care at all. Like I’m unwanted. Continuing my rampage, I hurled a porcelain vase at the wall. It hit my mom instead. Blood oozed from the gap between her fingers. I covered my eyes and squalled, terrified. My feet felt numb and I sank on the floor. Crying. Screaming.

“You know I’m not like this! I don’t know what I’m doing.. I.. I just can’t stop myself! I’m so sorry!”

A pair of hands jolted my arms and before I knew it, my hands were tied behind my back. As I struggled to disembarras, two men held my feet and tied them together. 

“Let me go!”

I was tucked inside an ambulance. Unable to move, I stared at my parents who were seated Infront of me.

” I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear! You guys just don’t understand!” 

“It’s okay baby, we got you”, said mom. 

*       *      *

Delusional thinking, anxiety, paranoia, unruly behaviour… a hell lot of things to cope with. Mental illness is a fight within the mind. Everyone has a different perspective towards the mentally ill souls. No matter how we feel about them, remember, it’s not their fault. They’re not cursed,  their minds are just variant. It is something that can happen to anyone. Be kind.