“Article seven: If you have no reason or ability to be, then just endure. If you have …no…reas. If you….”, sitting crossed legged on a cushion, lost in a corner of a room-which she secretly calls her ‘sanctuary’ ,a cup of tea in her hand has turned into a sweet cold cocktail ,while she unconsciously repeats the same sentence, may be, fifth time in a row from a book. The entire world could pledge that she is reading a book and that the wrinkles on her forehead are changing briskly, likewise those fluctuating ups and downs in a story. But, NO! She is somewhere else, might be taking a flight for another country while sitting on a same cushion for almost one hour. “Day dreaming is good for health”, she whispers this sentence to herself, whenever she gets worried about her opaque imagination.
HAREEM! HAREEM! , someone was shouting her name, only God knows for how long they have been calling her. She shuffled some pages, found what she needed, placed that book mark and stood instantly. A total black-out in her vision, she continued walking, and just when she reached mirror, her eyesight decided to return- this is what she always declared as wrong timings. She took a glimpse of herself, averted her gaze, gasped, and pressed her lips together tightly, made some heart wrenching faces and went away. ”Tsk tsk! Remorse? Anger? What was it Hareem?” “There is always this voice.” She said to herself, “It interrogates me, struggles to make me feel worthless with its suspicious and pitiful talks, always trying to add fuel to the fire.”
The sun was at its highest, showering all its glitter upon the earth, melting everything with its harsh existence. There she was, flying in the middle of a boiling road. Hareem has this new habit of walking anxiously. For instance, she might be going to her kitchen, but she would stand up hurriedly, make grim faces, and take steps in such speed that people around her would imply that she is going to wage war against this entire universe. Absent-mindedly, out somewhere in space, she was mumbling some words “like a small boat in an….in an…..” She goggled at her shoes and then, her eyes went to focus the road-this is what she always declared as stupidity. Paused. A breath skipped. A moment paralyzed. It felt as if Earth has stopped revolving. Her veins could burst in any minute now. A tinge in her whole body. And, now she has decided to walk again, but this time with more cloddish manner. “Tsk tsk! Anger. Isn’t? You don’t like your own shadow? ”. “Ignore. Ignore.” Hareem started whispering to herself until the voice accepted her defeat.
Tick tock, Tick tock. Lying on a bed. Changing sides. Tick tock, Tick tock. Closing her eyes. As if, shutting one’s eyes has always helped shutting one’s mind too.
Voice: If you don’t hate yourself, then why you keep running away from yourself.
Hareem: I don’t run away. Understand? I DON’T. I just don’t like ‘shadows’ and ‘reflections’.
Voice: Ahhh!! Right! And, what is reflection? A replica of your own self. What is shadow? An idea. A mere sketch of your own being.
Hareem: What do you want from me? WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM? (She was shouting at the top of her lungs)
Voice: Why you hesitate to own yourself? Why you ignore yourself?
Hareem: STOP THIS NONSENSE!! OK?
Voice: Why don’t you look straight into your own eyes and say yes, I own these scars. Yes, I am not perfect.
Hareem: I DON’T WANT TO LISTEN TO YOU .STOPPP.
Voice: Yes, I make mistakes. Yes, I am a human. So what?
Hareem: You’re funny! (Laughs)
Voice: You torture yourself .You think yourself as a victim. You are not weak.
Hareem: Who do you think you are?
Voice: I am you. I am your reflection. I am your shadow. I am your everything, which you always deny to own.
Hareem: Why can’t you just leave me? Because ….because!! When I look at you, I feel worthless. When I hear your footsteps, I feel ashamed. When I look at your actions, I want to suffocate myself to death. I can’t even stand your presence, singing praises for you is as hard as trying to remove that venom showered by you in the last two minutes.
Voice: Have you ever seen broken pieces of a mirror? Do you know, despite of the fact that it is shattered and inadequately laying on the floor, it is brave enough to reflect back.
Hareem: Have you ever seen a hopeless pebble resting on a pathway? People look at it and hurl it away with their feet!!
Voice: There was this girl. You know? I have known her for many years. When she was trying to walk for the first time in her life. She took few steps and stumbled on the floor. I got nervous. But, her infectious smile was enough to make me believe in her.
Hareem: I buried her with my own vicious hands.
Voice: She still waits for you. She still loves you. She might be somewhere in your memories. She is somewhere locked in the rooms, where you no longer wish to go. She is somewhere in the highlands, flying, believing, dancing and singing.
Hareem: Where can I find her?
Voice: In the little moments, where the sun rises and tears off darkness. In the little moments, where you step forward and dare to fight. In the moments, where you dream what you want to dream. In the moments, where you say farewell to your fears; where you spread your wings and love yourself.
She did not know how to answer it. She got up. Ran upstairs. Sat beside the window; cried until her eyes got exhausted and pleaded her to stop. She wiped her own tears off; looked at the sky full of stars. Smiled at the beginning of a journey full of roses and thorns.