Sunday, 11 December 2011

Every Day.

I open my eyes. Click and my cell-phone shows me 24-07-2011. Another day.
My eyes are heavy. And they hurt. For a moment I am stuck. I don't know what has happened. The sunlight, from the window, seeps into my room. Its bright outside, but I don't feel so. Why do I feel so dark? And all the stupid questions block my mind. Is this why I were born? Just to wait? For things to change? Is this why, days were made, to wait for the night and then the next day, and so freaking on? I shake my head in disbelief. I am given another day to live, I should be thankful. And not be sad about it. I lift my head, and its heavy. Probably the same migraine, I think. Or maybe due to the crying last night? I get up, regardless of all. I can feel the blood in my vessels moving through my head. I tie my hair and start cleaning the room.
It's been twenty minutes by far and feels as if twenty hours have gone by. with every step that I take, I shiver. Maybe, my footsteps will wake her up. I feel cold though its mid summers. I consider switching off the fan. Should I, I think? Or will the creak sound the switch button makes will wake her up? No, I should turn it off. Or at least slow it down. What worse could it cause? But it is mid summers and I am thinking of turning the fan off? How stupid. It's probably the headache, I tell myself.
I go wash up. Done with all the cleaning. One hour passes by. My siblings will come home by three. It is still eleven. Why is not the time passing?
What do I do now? Lie down again? Or read a book? Anything, that I am sure of, wont wake her up. I think read the book, I have already started. I pick it up. I take out my book-mark, and start reading.
Geez, what do I feel so nauseatic? Am I hungry? I guess I am. Should I eat? Or should I wait for her, and then make us both something? Or should I simply eat, and she wont mind. Or maybe, today, she will wake up late? No, I should wait. No risks I should take. I should read. I carry on reading, my head throbbing, and my heart racing.
I haven't done anything, but why do I feel so gutted?
I feel some footsteps. I close the book, put it back, making sure I don't make a sound. I get up, in a quick time, start making the creases on the bed go away. I flatten my hand, and work the sheet out. Is she coming? Even if she is, she will think I am just cleaning my room, and she wont make a fuss out of my being up? I don't feel her door opening. I stand still, listening to the footsteps. They have faded away. No sound, I can hear of. I stand for a minute or two, making sure she is not up. I sit. Maybe, I just felt something. Yes, I think, it is supposed to be my head playing with me. I shrug. I sigh. But a deep, relaxed sigh. For I am glad she is not awake, as yet.
I start reading again. I see the clock, on the wall. Oh no. just 15 minutes passed by, so far? Unbelievable. What the hell? Why isn't the time passing? I curse my life. That's what I always do. Don't know who to make, stand responsible for it!
I go on, reading. I have loved the book. By far, it's been great. But today, why can't I put my head in it. Why does my mind keeps drifting away? Why does my life is this way? What am I supposed to do? What do I do to make things better? This better? I do everything, to make her believe, that I love her. I smile. I talk, ignoring all the shit she says about me. But why me? Why were I born? Another tear sheds. I close my eyes. Picture her image. The good image. I smile. Maybe, that her, one day will be back. No, not maybe. She will be. She have to be. I smile. But the useless, hopeless smile. I clear my face, making sure it is not wet. My eyes are swollen. I can feel it when I touch them. My mind hopelessly drifts, and I am stuck thinking of last night. The shouts, the screams, the taunts, the the puns, the SLAP. I cry now, without realising, it's been the same, since forever.
I cry, for I am alone.
I cry, for I am hopeless.
I cry, for I am sad.
I cry, for I am helpless.
I cry, for I Love her.
I cry, for I am tired now.
I cry, for I don't know what else to do.
Suddenly, its strucks me. I am back to my senses. I stop crying, and rush to wash my face. My eyes are red, and I can see the veins visible in them. Anybody can tell, I have been crying. I get scared. What if she sees me like this? She'd kill me. She'd ask me hundreds of questions. What will I do? I keep on putting water in my eyes, until I think they look better.
I go back to my room. I sit, and wait till I catch my breath. I feel scared. damn scared.
I check time. Yes! Two hours since I woke up. I can't believe my luck. But I am very hungry now. Still not sure, whether to eat or not. I can feel my stomach growling.
I pick up the book again. Start reading it. My eyes itch now. I close the book, and put it back. I close my eyes. They hurt more than ever. I lie down for a while. The memories haunt. The grim and glum life. I don't see any end. But I see my flexibility coming to an end. I feel myself die. I know, I am dying every minute. I am not the same I used to be. Life seems meaningless. Helpless. And suddenly I hear a thrud. And I know she is up. This time I can't be mistaken. Life isn't fair. Never was. Never will be. I jump. Close the book and put it back. And start getting rid of the creases, just like before. I hear the door open, the shrill sound shouting my name.
I sigh. Big, deep, helpless sigh. I say geeeeeee.
I know now, why I were born. Why I had felt so gutted. Why I have been so sad. I know I am out of luck. And I know life isn't bed of roses. For me. I shiver.
I feel two bulgy eyes viewing me. I look up and say, geee Ma?
And I know, the day has begun.

7 comments:

  1. MAHNOOR! This is the first of this kind and it is almost prolific mannnn. I loved the I cry part.
    I hope its fiction, cos it made me feel kinda sad too. But over all, khoobsurat <3

    ReplyDelete
  2. cry that is the best way to ease the pain and remember the happiness moments in you're life, life is a beautiful struggle. smile! cheer! :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. crying does make one feel better...:)...but really i think, when one is all down in the dumps, they should get up, and get busy:) it helps us distribute our mind:)
    keep smiling...:) the post ws surely very touching:)

    ReplyDelete
  4. welcome back mahnoor...glad to have you back on blogger... and this was first of its kind from you...liked it :) agreed with crystal...

    ReplyDelete
  5. Life isn't a bed of roses for anybody. And yes, it's okay to cry :)
    Was a nice read :)

    ReplyDelete