Insatiable

"What do I still long for ?"...The answer is unknown. It is like this question has been dangling onto me since ages. It felt like a burden to me, but now it has become my faithful companion. The first ever friend whom I wish to leave. The further I go, the more closer I am drawn to it. The more I try to forget it, the stronger it rebounds creating a greater pain beyond any sense of endurance. I want to find out the truth behind my emptiness, but I am scared of the impact that it would leave on my life. "Will I be able to have vengeance on behalf of my sufferings, revenge on all those things that were meant to cause the braking of a star into shatters?...The priceless tears that merged with the ground, wasted unnecessarily, will they be avenged? "

Reaching home, I cleaned up the small wounds on my hands and legs that were caused due to my falling during the accident. I should have done that before, but having a meet with my friend was my only priority then. The blood around them had now clotted. I applied antiseptic liquid from the first aid box that I had taken out from the vanity before washing off the dust from the cuts. Their colour had a tint of blue due to soreness and red because of the clot. It should have hurt, at least a little, little enough to be called a bruise but it didn't. May be the pain was nothing compared to all that I had suffered a long time ago. I wrapped a white medical bandage around my arms at places which were the most bruised. " This should be enough ", said I referring to the bandaged hand of mine. I was actually just trying to defend my ideology of not visiting a doctor. Since young age I disliked going to the hospital for medical check-ups. It was just when I accidentally broke my arm when I was in first grade, and my knee which was detected of juvenile arthritis in 8th grade that I willingly visited the hospital.

Everytime I went there, the doctor instead of looking into the real problem used to stare at my face and make unwanted predictions, "do you not eat anything? You are pale... I've never seen eyes as white as yours... you don't have blood in you?" "No doctor... she eats just fine,...she is not a picky eater and also we don't have meals outside that often", used to be my mother's ready reply. The doctor no matter how young or old he or she was blindly scribbled some things on the white prescription paper in an alien language unreadable by most of the humans. Even though my genius in chemistry was always lower than the other fields of sciences I tried to recognize the letters. No matter how hard I worked, the words made of alphabets always seemed far from understandable. While leaving the medical cabin filled with irritating disinfectant smell "you should smile a little more...why do you not stay happy " was the only thing I could hear from the mouth of every doctor that examined me. I felt like delivering quite a disrespectful speech on their scornful face, but all I could really do was show them how beautifully I smiled and my grace as I bowed down to thank them for their least needed help.

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