The two worlds

I looked into the mirror that hung on the wall of my washroom and saw a young lady staring back at me. Her eyes we're swollen and wet. It appeared like she was in great pain. Her hands were forcefully held and tied back with a string of stubbornness. The string was fragile enough to be broken but when splintered, it carried the danger of losing one's guards...in other words, she could not afford to ask for help. Her gaze was cold yet a wave of familiarity extended out of her sight. Her smile was shallow and meaningless. It contrasted with her inner self. I lifted my hand, bringing it closer to her, then I leaned forward and she moved with me. I wished to reach out and hold her in my arms but the distance between us was far from reality. I wanted to give her all the love I had in my heart. She could understand every action, every thought, every feeling of mine and I could understand her's. There was some kind of bond between us, though blurry but fair to connect our souls. Her state seemed sympathetic. When I reflected my pity towards her condition, she changed expressions to a fierce beast.

She was like a soldier returning from war... a soldier who fought bravely and survived but was trodden with the burden of casualties... a soldier who won the battle yet lost everything that he had... a soldier who first suffered brutally to protect his country and in the end was given unwanted sympathy by his people.There was nothing that I could do for the lady and left her the way she was. Maybe looking at her affectionately caused more miseries than leaving her alone to reflect. She wanted to stop me from going but the words didn't come out of her mouth. Her tongue got twitched. She needed what she was afraid of. Love had only caused nuisance in her world and made her life troublesome. The gentle lady was scared that someone might give her the love and care that she always wanted and would also snatch it away just before she could even feel it's warmth.

I walked back to my room to change into something light wearing and discovered that I had accidentally ruined my skirt. It was soiled with dust, stained with sprinkles of blood all over the sides (not periods) and ripped through the knee area. " It must have happened when I fell down after the car rash... and the blood...because of my injury. " To be honest it was the only skirt I had. I don't like wearing them, but I wore it this time because of Anna. She is always complaining of me dressing like a 'tomboy'. I like making people smile. Bringing an unrestricted and a cheerful laughter to even a single person, just makes my day. I don't let them laugh on me, but I do make them laugh because of me. I changed back to my loose pyjamas and oversized T-shirt that occupied most of my wardrobe. I strolled in the corridor that seemed exceptionally quiet. I thought of watching TV in the main hall of my apartment and proceeded with the same. Reclining on the couch I turned the TV on using the remote control kept on the center table amongst a couple of morning newspapers. I scrolled through every channel but everything seemed out of my interest. My mind was lost somewhere...amidst the bitter- sour memories. There were pictures rushing through my brain at a speed of more than 16pics per second. I cannot control my thought process even if I want to, it simply works on its own.

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