The Dawn of Hope

I looked at the ceiling and it was null as hell. It was a freaking rainy Diwali night.

Christ! I abhor showers and I hate Diwali! The firework lights and cracker noise felt like torture.

I was waging a war against my past. Am I depressed? I have been critically rehearsing loneliness for a long time. In fact, for 3 years. No!

I always devour Diwali in my room, all by myself. And it’s not that sinful.

Until I recalled - flinging my coffee mug against the wall.?Thereafter, I scrutinized the words I had penned on my whiteboard. It said -

“I did a dreadful thing.

I botched my buddy.

I should have stepped upright.

Had I learned how to patrol….

1097th day”

These words were embedded there on the board … and in my head for 1097 days. The shame never let me wipe it off. I believe I had integrity about the size of my pupil.

Maybe I should sip some water. Shit! I haven’t gotten up from my bed for 2 days. 48 hours and I was ogling at the ceiling like a crazy ghoul.

I must get up! I started murmuring — “I ought to stop chit-chatting with myself”.

Gosh, I need to fill the jug. This is hard work. I could see cockroaches all over the utensils.

What time is it? I need to charge my phone and open the windows.

As soon as I opened the window, my place sensed ventilation after a crazy two days.

I shouted, cried, gasped, and sat on the floor.

“No howling,” I said to myself. I had to munch something.

“I have some cookies. Fuck, I have to get up again.”

I slid and pushed myself towards the box. Grabbing a few cookies, I drank water.

“I need to get out of this room. This is not normal. Where the hell is my phone?”

I found it under the bed.

“Let me charge it … what time is it? ………..Ahhhhhhh……… “

With a mouthful of air, I said, “It’s 2 am. Damn, I should doze off.”

I dined on some more cookies, cleaned my bed, and tried sleeping.

But I couldn’t.

I got up, sat by the windowpane, and gazed at that lengthy parched tree. Tears rumbled down my cheeks.

I fell asleep. After a few hours, I could hear vehicles bustling and the public chirping. It was 7 am. I took my handbag and locked my door to leave.

“Wait!”

I opened it again, combed my hair, put some deo on, and hauled myself out.

“I am going to buy milk, make coffee, order pizza, and watch Harry potter. And everything is going to be all right and in good health.”

Walking towards the store, my stomach was making unusual noises. I remembered how challenging it was to find a residence being a single woman.

Whenever I used to inquire about a rental home, after attending to my deets of working hours and relationship status, the owners used to ogle at me from head to toe. I never apprehended how the label of matrimony makes a difference to society.

It’s tough to fight the wrangle with society while you are having conflict with your own wits.

I reached the store and asked for a milk packet. And abruptly started breathing heavily and loudly. The shopkeeper gazed at me and rushed to hold me. He made me sit on the chair and gave me a glass of water. I shut my eyes and burning tears rolled down from cheeks to the throat. I somehow picked myself up and headed back home.

On my way back home, everyone around the lane was staring at me as if I was an intoxicated thingamajig. I conceded that the social fabric for a single, depressed woman is intensely ripped in our culture.

A chasm of fog - filled my body and sanity. It was time to amend communication in my brain. I started looking for a nearby therapist.

Dr. Nisha Trivedi, tomorrow, 11.30 am, done!

Fast forward to tomorrow, at Dr. Nisha’s clinic- The room had sage green colored wallpaper with plantation at the eye-level windows. The soft Sufi music kind of exalted my core.?

The paperwork was fast.

Wearing a pair of loose trousers and a shirt under the white doctor’s coat, Dr. Nisha peered at me through her thick glasses. Her hair was in a tight bun. I reckoned her to be around my age.

She asked me to talk about myself.

“I am Shonali, 29. Fair skin, long straight hair, and a chubby woman. Oh, what hogwash I am talking about, this sounds like a typical matrimonial description. "

I giggled like drunk giddy. I realized I should be sober.?

"I am an editor…..,” I didn’t say this aloud.

"Anyways, about my personal life — I’ve had my crushes on boys in school and college. So I am straight. I live on my own and have a steady job. I take my own sweet time to get ready, talk to my mirror, meditate twice a week, and work on deadlines. I have conceived a few great premises for authors but still, I always feel like an outsider in my company.

Did I tell you I am an introvert? I am a motormouth now but let me tell you - weeks pass by in my life and I hardly utter ten words.?

Although, being an introvert has never been my conscious choice. Well, I assume one day my soulmate will pierce into my life and I will be like everybody else ……

Or else I will die unaided in the midst of this world.

Yes, I mean a few weeks back I had a friend… a cat. I called her Aura. She was my loyal pet. But on Diwali when I locked myself in, she just left.

I suppose being hollow has become sculpted into my identity. But yes, I want to be loved and feel beautiful.

I always wonder if someone will ever need me. Will someone ever stay with me? Can I make someone happy?

I don’t have any dating history. Am I unflattering?

But you know what the truth is? No gentleman did any real hard work to achieve my attention. Or else I would have been pleasant to my partner. I know…”

Nisha — “Time up! Here is spadework for you — Go to your home, let your body soak in the water, listen to your favorite music, and cook something for yourself. Tomorrow, be here at 8 am!"

Whaaaat??? I didn’t even finish.

Was going to a therapist a bad initiative? One sec, what was I doing inside that room? Tossing impressions or communicating my vulnerabilities? A taciturn turned into voluble in that room, all of sudden.

Alright, while I was presenting my sermon to her, I didn’t have the guts to look at her, even once. Even though she didn’t articulate anything insensitive, I could make out from individuals’ body language. She would have reckoned me, so I played safe. That entire hour I was rubbernecking at that walnut brown circular table in the room. And she just chopped me off, my talk.

Do I have bipolar disorder?

Jeez, therapy is meant to be a magical curing session, correct? But it wasn’t.

I have selective mutism but there should be someone on the earth I could talk to. And that surely was not this "wrench therapist". I don’t want to do any spadework with this mental chaos.

I need my cold coffee and I am heading to the office, I decided.

The next day I didn’t feel any superior. Should I visit that spooky room? I am already better. No need! Come on, I should give her one more opportunity to treat me. So I grabbed my bag & went back to her clinic.

Nisha — “Did you do your spadework?”

Me — “No, I had an office to attend.”

Nisha — “You need a change in your life.

There are a set of guidelines and regulations here, you must adhere to them. …I mean, only if you want the therapy to be effective. Now tell me, do you have any yearning?”

I stared into her eyes … giving her a face that said, “What gibberish are you asking me?”

She lifted her eyebrows and questioned — “Any spontaneous desire?”

I sighed, “Okay, there is one place I am most enthralled about. It’s a village — Pooyamkutty. The village is close to Thattekkad Bird sanctuary, sited along the Periyar river. It has the most gorgeous Peendimedu waterfall within the affluent forest. I want to take a dip in the Periyar and bask in the visuals of long bamboo trees, elephant herds, and those panoramic hill ranges. I also want to watch the traditional Theyyam dance of Kerala. They say the experience engraves your heart for eternity.”

Nisha — “So why haven’t you been there, up till now?”

Me - “I feel alarmed with the notion of wandering outside Delhi. I don’t have any friends. Remember?” I said. “Besides, what if I witness something creepy and soul-chilling?”

Nisha — “Like what?”

Me — “It can be anything…. murder….or rape.”

Nisha looked at me, waited for me to speak up. I gave her a bare pale look that said,” What are you expecting?”

Nisha looked down in her journal and then at the wall.

There was a tongue-tied hush. I realized maybe I should tell her. Apparently, that’s why I am here.

I took a deep breath. “That night we had a Diwali celebration at college and I saw my friend being physically assaulted in the classroom.”

Nisha gave me a glass of water. She could see me on the threshold of breaking down.

I continued. “And I ran away at that very instant. Instead of helping her, doing something or the other, I just became invisible. Although my friend had many other friends, for me she was the only one with whom I shared my time. After that incident, my friend left college. And every time I saw the guy who harassed her, I used to shudder and run away. Somehow I managed to complete my studies that year. But I lost my heart and will to speak. By no means, I could forgive myself.”

And I stood up and threw the flower vase on the ground. I was ranting at myself. Nisha held me and made me sit. She was sitting beside me and I started mourning noisily.

“I can’t do any better for anyone, or myself or my organization. That is why I disowned the promotion of senior editor. Everyone in the office thought how ridiculous I am. I felt like a total failure. But they don’t know the demon within me who ran away and raped humanity. “

The 50-minute alarm rang. And I took my bag and left for home. I didn’t want to go to that moronic workplace anymore.

As soon as I reached home, I opened the freezer to breathe in the chilled air. What a draining morning! For the rest of the day, I slept like a baby.

The next day I was 10 minutes early for therapy.

Sitting, quaking my leg, and waiting for my turn, I saw my Snapchat memory-

“Babe, this realm is brutal.

If you wanna rule it, you must overcome every obstacle!

Nothing is gonna help you along.

Just bestow your soul with the passion of love.

Let your spirit inscribe your life with the rainbow of valor!”

Nisha — “You okay?”

“I am good,” I said.

Nisha — “What did you do yesterday after the session?”

I shared with her all the lame deets.

She said, “Let’s talk about that episode.”

She exhaled long to take a pause, then continued.

“Don’t you think you must forgive yourself? What you saw was not normal, Shonali. We are human beings, we are likely to fret. We can’t be laudable every time.”

“But — “

She cut me off, “Do you understand what is going on with you? That incident is tripping you, constantly. And all your melancholic feelings are taking pleasure, whenever you recall that.”

“I know!” I said frowning.

Nisha continued, “Your pessimism is doing no good to your energy or this planet. You are such a talented editor and instead of leveraging your skills, you are just dismissing them — this is about your professional life. And you know what? The world out there is so incredible to live and experience and here you are — slaying your life in the dark closet.”

I was thinking she needed therapy too. The way she is getting edgy and setting coercion on me, maybe she is a fresher. I am not her younger sister. I can’t take her vocal raid.

I stood up and said, “Rather than feeling any positivity, I feel wobbly as I enlighten you with my personal information. I can’t bear it.”

All of sudden, the expression on her face turned stone cold. She stared at my face, and after a pause, she said “I know this is bumpy, but I’m not sure if you wish to be in the trauma zone eternally. You are an assertive woman, do you realize that?”

I sat down and said, “I am not sure about this therapy. I don’t really believe in it. I just puked all my fragments, what now?”

“This is the first time you have voiced your trauma. And yes there is the next tread,” she said.

“You need a break — a fresh place. You must book your tickets to Pooyamkutty. I know it’s intimidating. But stalking out of life is not a solution. You must explore.”

I argued with her in a raised voice — “Maybe I will quit in the middle of the journey. I will not be able to reach Pooyamkutty. And I hate giving up. Life will be futile again.

I freak out at any time and can’t control my physical or emotional actions. There is no caution signal from me”

“That’s okay. You are such a mindful person that you don’t hurt anyone … or yourself,” she said softly.

I understood it was more of a question than an empathetic statement. I assured her that I don’t hurt anyone, or myself.

“That’s good.”

Hesitatingly I asked, “Why are you pushing me right now? All of this is ginormous for me!”

Nisha said, “It will be overwhelming, but you need this. We all have our blind spots.

You will be transiting for the first time, strangers all around. Take pleasure in the new venture; you will get a fresh insight into yourself.

You will definitely come across some panic situation but what about that plunge in the river and watching the god dance?

Earn the confidence and balance your emotions, Shonali.

You know what? I am already jealous…I will be sitting on the couch and attending to tragic tales and you will be out there in God’s own country. And you can carry pepper spray with you.”

I was staring at her. Her bugging attitude just doesn’t stop. I didn’t say a word.

“Share your ticket with me on WhatsApp…. By tonight. Rest, we will talk later.”

How absurd of her! She then asked me to vacate her room with that notice. It was an exhaustive session.

What am I supposed to do?

Consider?

Discard the idea?

Go to the office?

Let me check with the manager if I will get the leave or not. Post-Diwali there is a stack of workload in the office. Besides, I have been taking random leaves these days.

I applied for a 5-day leave and checked the status for the 100th time.

I resolved to let fate take the reins and decide for this quest. I have done my bit.

6 pm — Leave approved!

Hold on…there was a note — “You seem to be lost these days, come back to the office with your original knack.”

I stared at that screen for 20 seconds.

Did I make a blunder in today’s draft? I never lose inquisitiveness in my work, even in my dark phase.

Alas! I never went to work in my trauma phase. I skip so many things when I am low, including my meditation. As a matter of fact, it was my adoration for writing, reading, and meditation practice that kept me lucid enough to not hurt anyone. Including me.

But is my therapy tormenting my professional life?

I should be glad that my leave had been approved. It’s a sign from the cosmos.

I decided I should book the ticket. While walking home, I tried smiling. It was laborious. Guess I was the girl who could not grin.

I cooked Maggi and ate it. I was casually checking the tickets. Available. I booked them and shared them with Dr. Nisha.

She replied back — Seek out for your missing pieces of spirit in this trip. Share pictures!

“Share pictures.” Was this part of therapy? Until then everything was good.

Now I start flapping my arms, hollering, and stomping around my home while biting my nails.

I used to stash dark chocolates in the locked section of the fridge. Only to have them for ‘all times.’

I could see those visuals again. I started the first part of Harry Potter. The anxiety inside me was swelling every minute. I opened my diary and wrote this –

“Staring at my dream, dinosaurs in my skull started shaking their legs. Save my light, screams my soul.”

Finally, at 3 am I got frazzled with the over-thinking and slept on the floor. The floor has always been my good cuddler in such times.?

Waking up at 10, I realized I had shattered a lot of my savings by booking tickets. Who cares anyway? I should fritter some more savings over shopping. I made my list and included pepper spray in it.

Before leaving home, I screamed looking at the mirror, and sat on the floor.

My neighbors must be thinking I am a psychopath. Even though there is no guy or girl visiting this house, one can hear a lot of unusual shouting and screaming through the walls. I got up and went close to the mirror and said, “Why are you holding Pooyamkutty in your head and not going out there to live it?”

That was it. I’d made up my mind.

That day, on my way home from the shopping, I took a small detour. I saw an orphanage on the opposite side of the road. It was a bungalow with a big playground. It was decently maintained.

I don’t know what happened, but my legs just took me there. Coming across the security guard, I asked if I would be allowed to enter and have a look.

Although he wasn’t too keen, he didn’t deny it.

I entered the premises and looked at the huge playground. I could see scattered parentless children — happy, nervous, playing, curious and crying.

It was like I was transported to a highly emotional space. Knots in my heart began to tighten. I was never a kid person.

But things have not been the same since Diwali. My every slice of the blueprint has been wrecked.

Most of the children were playing cricket. What drew my attention was a three-year-old girl in the sandpit. There was something special about her. She looked like a warrior of her world. She had nobody else around her, and it didn’t seem to frighten her.

I walked towards her and sat next to her. I smiled at her. But her poignant eyes told me that she was not interested in any sort of interaction. She was making a track.

After a while, I asked her, “What do you think of this track?”

She said, “One day I will drive my car on this track.”

The way she said those words illustrated her conviction. I could see her beautiful dream right through her eyes. She had lengthy black eyelashes, chubby cheeks, a knob-like nose, and thin curly hair. Right at that moment, I felt connected with her.

She didn’t ask for attention although she needed it. She made an impression on my soul. Before leaving, I said to her, “I am Shonali.”

I put my hand forward. She looked at me, shook my hand, and said, “My name is Zunzun.”

I took a deep breath and exited the same way I came in.

When I returned home I don’t know what occurred to me. I cleared my whiteboard pretty hard. I stared at it for a great deal of time with an empty mind.?

I felt like I had thrown the demon out of my house.

Lying like a phantom on the bed, that night I realized I have been breathing a secure life. Despite shitty emotional complications.

I thought about Zunzun’s soulful eyes. Everyone on this planet needed someone or the other to strike a chord of love. I sighed.

There are fucking several angles of this lifetime that can make me nervous and serene at the same time.

Tomorrow I have to leave. I packed the jack of strength with me for this exam or you can say trip.

I landed in Kochi, and from there it was a three-hour bus ride.

The trip to Pooyamkutty was picturesque. It was almost like I had imagined. Bamboo & tall coconut trees, endless patches of forests. I didn’t zone out, nor panicked. Just being in God’s own country seemed to cover me with a soothing blanket of nature that made me feel alive.

The elephant herds, the forest trails, and the river bath felt like a rebirth. The experience made me feel alive like never before.?

And the biggest highlight was — I forgot that I even had pepper spray with me.?

I discovered an infinite space of possibilities. I understood what an enchanting experience means.

The vestiges of the past didn’t seem so threatening as I boarded the return flight for Delhi.

I remembered to share pictures with Dr. Nisha. And it didn’t feel as absurd anymore.

At home, while I was unpacking my luggage, I saw a neatly folded piece of paper. It said — “I wake up in the dream looking at the mirror. I saw the roving soul holding the nerve for the first time.”

I wrote this when I was traveling in the bus to Pooyamkutty.

I don’t know what made me to stood up and take my marker. I just scribbled these words on my blank whiteboard-

“So I am asking for the spell

To pause and rekindle my world

Cause I gotta breathe daisy like a shot

Here I am, swearing my oath,

And it syncs with my heartbeat, saying -

I’m embracing my life & soaring far beyond the horizon.”

It was intuitive at the spur of the moment. I read it again and wondered what made me write this. This looked like some news for the superpower or universe.

Gradually as the days passed, I started coping with my emotions, feeling kind of optimistic. Above all, I restarted my life with the heartfulness that I had taken for granted all these years.

I had been through the twinge of being lonely and uncomfortable in my own mind. I had always been waiting for love. So I decided to adopt Zunzun.

My life was evocatively blank. I didn’t want Zunzun to go through the same. I wanted her hope to be preserved. The confidence with which she communicated her dreams was too precious to be ignored. And so I went ahead to live her dreams through her eyes.

In a gentle way, Shonali shook the world and caught her stars while her demons were floating in the peace.

-The End-