Rubatosis

By
Source: Pinterest


Have you ever woken up one day and felt all empty? As if there was nothing left of you except that body which you were clinging onto with all your might.

Today was one such day for me. 

The nightmares of the past refuse to leave me. Especially on lonely nights when all I can hear is my own heartbeats around. It was all fine till yesterday, or it seemed so.I woke up, had gone to office, finished my daily routine and was about to leave for home in the evening when Rekha called me.


"Hey, join us in cafeteria. We are planning for Soumya's pre-wedding functions. It's going to be lot of fun."

I politely refused. Even lied that my friend was waiting downstairs to pick me up. And hurried away from there.

What was I even thinking? The whole world knew I had no friends. Neither the type who picked me from work nor the ones who would call just to check on me casually.

I could hear their whispers in the corridor where I was waiting for the lift. "Why is she like this?" one voice wondered while other chipped in "Do you think she is jealous?" 

Leading to the grand conclusion, "Doesn't look like the feminist types who hates men? Why does she behave so strangely?" Followed by lot of giggles before the lift arrived saving me from further embarrassment.

How do I tell them why do I behave like this?

They don't know that since I was 11 all I ever dreamt of was becoming a bride. All decked up from head to toe, gushing, blushing, surrounded by friends and loved ones taking small yet confident steps towards a new life. That's how I always saw myself as an adult. A bride, a radiant, glowing bride who was the most beautiful person on the earth for that one single day.

How do I tell them that I had to pay a huge price for that dream to come true!

My mother refused to give me any jewellery from the heirloom stating it was for her son and his wife. I wore an old saree for my wedding instead of any hand picked bridal dresses. And the first compliment on that special day from my would-be-husband was, "What is wrong with you? You look so ugly today. Couldn't you have chosen a better colour to wear at least for today?" I can never forget the way his mother and other family members kept criticizing my looks, my attire and the amount of gold I was wearing. 

Nightmares do come true and my long cherished dream was turning into an ugly nightmare for me that day. 

The day went by in trying not to break down but night was the hardest. It was an unforgettable one as my husband decided to stake his claim on my body to proudly declare himself as the man and me, his wife. It didn't matter what I felt, or whether I felt anything or not. Sadly, this nightmare became my reality for next coming years as I lived a life of lies and deceit. I didn't recognize the person I saw in the mirror daily, still don't sometimes. It feels as if I was wearing a mask to please everyone around me. And now the mask was suffocating me, refusing to come off. I could no longer make out the real me.

Image Source: http://allwomenstalk.com/11-warning-signs-of-suicide/2
There was no charming prince to my rescue neither were there any Fairy Godmothers waiting to help me out of this situation.  I don't even remember how I managed to gather the courage to run away from there. All I know is, I survived. I am still undergoing therapy and my panic attacks are much lesser than before now. But somehow, marriages always trigger me. For that's the only thing I ever wished for, to be a happy bride and that one memory hurts me the most from my entire life. Nothing can perhaps break my heart as much as that!

That was yesterday. This is today. My anxiety has taken my whole body under control and I can barely move. I have called in sick at work and am trying to not think of anything that can trigger it further. But the ghosts are haunting me. I am trying to build a bright future, illuminated with hope so that the nightmares of the past can no longer scare me there. 

For I know, I have survived and I will survive. 

P.S: This piece has been written in response to the picture prompt for Friday Figment at Keemiya Creatives Blog


Popular posts from this blog

Diary of a Lost Wanderer - Lost & Found

By
Image
Dear Diary, I fell in love with Mumbai when I first visited it in 1995. Bombay, as it was then known, fascinated me since then.  If you ask me what made me fall in love with this city, I perhaps cannot explain. It wasn't that I was seeing the sea for the first time. It wasn't even the biggest city I had been to till then. Still, there was something so magical about this place. The trip was a short one lasting less than a week but this city now had my heart. Years later, I arrived here all alone on my first solo trip in 2005 and fell in love all over again. I got my first job and was required to come to Mumbai frequently. The local trains, the chaos on the roads, the crowds, the humdrum, the salty smell in the air, the stale air- everything about this city was intoxicating for me. 
Keep reading »

Essay: How to mourn the loss of love?

By
Image
Image Source: Unsplash.com I remember the first time I mourned the loss of love was when I was eleven.  For me, dance was love at that time. I had discovered a strange joy as I glided in and out of those movements. Every time I swirled; I could feel my heart soar. Any beat that strained to reach my ears, tempted me to move my body to its tune. I just knew I was born to dance and that is the only thing I wanted to do, all my life.  I had my reasons to believe so and a very simple one at that. It made me happy. That was a reason enough. However, my father thought otherwise. Girls from good families, do not dance. That line was enough to break all those rosy dreams of dancing on a stage. The day my brother was sent to the same dance class which was not good for me, was the day I experienced heartbreak for the first time.  That is the day I mourned the loss of my first love- Dance. 
Keep reading »

Metro Diaries: The Art of Making Love

By
Image
Image Source: Unpexels (Cottonbro) “Do you know why is it called making love?” He whispered, pulling the comforter closer.  I don’t remember for how long we had been in that room, on that bed. Lying aimlessly, just feeling each other in silence. I managed to just whimper to denote my curiosity.   “Because that is the moment we create love. We are the closest we could ever be to love, in its purest form. It is sheer magic as we are naked, in every form. Mentally, physically and emotionally before that one person, we love. We know they can hurt us, as much as they want to, in the way they want to. But love gives us that power to trust them, that they won’t.”   “And here I was thinking it is a need. Something you want at that moment and you get it!” 
Keep reading »