I am sitting alone in a
room, thinking about future. I am in pain and despair. Something has
happened and I have to start my life from the scratch. When I say
'from the scratch', I mean it. First of all, I have to learn how to
walk. Yes, there are few unfortunate ones who learn walking more than
once in a life time. My efforts, sweat and blood of years have gone
in-vain. Before this room, I was in another room, with people yet
alone. Since few months I am just changing rooms and roommates but in
same state of mind. I am just thinking, I guess that's all I am able
to do. I laugh a lot and crack jokes about everything possible. I
have no idea why I do so, may be I want to evade from thinking.
Sometimes, I play guitar too. I have always loved to compose new
tunes on it. I go no where without it, no room.
When I was with people, I
met a variety. When you are on the receiving end of life, you meet
the real of them. They were kind, friendly, positive, negative, mean,
rude and neutral. Some were cruel too. Adversity handpicks the best
and worst people and gives them to you. I too met both kinds. The
worst one to meet were, Mr & Ms. Iamthebest, Mr & Ms.
Oh!SadToHear, Mr & Ms. Don'tLooseHeart, Mr & Ms.
WeAreConcernedRelatives etc, etc. There were many more I can talk
about. However I am sure, many of you must have met them sometimes in
your lives. Life seems to be very particular about making us meet the
real part of people around us. None of us are happy to meet them, but
for me every meeting was taking me further in a darker abyss. They
made me doubt my will, determination, strength and confidence. I
questioned my capabilities and thought about my limitations. To be
honest, I can't say they were wrong about anything they said. It was
me who was struggling to accept the reality. The first step to life,
success or happiness is being completely transparent about your own
reality. I needed a hand to hold and not to push me further.
It is a hot day. My
fingers are trying to produce a new tune. Since my troop has stepped
on that landmine, I find it hard to focus. Neither that cloud of
blood infused dust has left my mind nor the loud sharp sound has
given my ears any rest. I can hear it even in the softest tunes. My
vacillations make it hard for me to find the right scale and focus on
right notes. Yet I try and manage to come up with a soft delicate
tune. It soothes me, I love it. I save it in my recorder to hum it
later. My moment of self-appreciation is disturbed, Mr. Best has
walked into my room. He is a colleague and my first roommate in the
training academy. He too sings. He borrows my guitar (which I hate)
and plays one of the finest tunes I have ever heard. He claims it to
be his with a proud smile. I wonder about the perfect strokes his
fingers have made on the strings to create these beautiful notes. It
was no doubt the best, almost perfect. I change my mind to share my tune with him. The effort was needless as Mr. Best is hardly
interested. After flaunting it to me he moves further to do the same,
leaving me in emotions I can't describe. I don't love my tune
anymore, I go back to my cloud and boom. I am doubting a talent I am
born with.
I have changed my room
again, this time the place is mine. While unpacking my stuff, I find
my recorder. I am about to throw it. Ms. Angel enters the room. I
call her this because she is someone who gives me hope. She picks up
that black tiny soul-mate of mine and presses the start button. I look
at her face, her eyes are closed and she seems to be meditating.
After listening to few, she looks at me full of
appreciation. “How do you...?”, she asks me, “Oh! They are
brilliant”. I am feeling something, hot blood is rushing in my
veins. For months, I have not felt anything good so I am not able to decipher the exact emotion. I
share all my work with her, one by one. Every time she seems to be
meditating. After she listens them, I listen them again, struggling
to hear them through her ears. I am sure they are good and I love
them again. People expect a lot less from me, but she never lowers
her bar of expectations. As if nothing ever happened to me, as if
nothing can affect me. It is very hard but it gives me an indomitable
inner strength. To every doubt of mine, she smiles and says, “You
can do anything bro.”
x-------------x----------------x-------------x
I read the above page
from my old diary and relive every moment. Time has flown, years have
passed. I still play guitar and compose new tunes, now
professionally. With every day I spent with Ms. Angel, I was learning
to live. I was regaining my lost faith on myself. I was questioning
my limitations and challenging my boundaries. I was learning to be
me, what I was and may be better. She held me tight and unknowingly
brought me to a place where I was ready to face and fight the world
all over again. It's not that I didn't fail again but I never give
up. Ms Angel never left my
side and she never will, after all we have been together since even before we were born. She is my twin sister.
Failure is one thing I
fear least. This is not because God has gifted me with an attitude to
overcome it, but because when I was lost deep in a vast chasm of
darkness, she pulled me out into light. Or I can say she pulled the
light out of me.
If you too have a Mr/Ms
Angel in your life, just hold tight and you will be through. It can
be anyone, a sibling, a parent, a friend, a spouse or a partner. Shut
your ears to everyone but them. Some battles are not won alone.
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