Are you listening?
I really hope you are listening. We need to talk.
I need you to listen.
A few hours ago, one of my friends asked me, ‘Bala, when was the last time you have lost faith?’
It was a pretty deep question, not because I didn’t have an answer, but because the answer I had made me reflect on our relationship, and once I did, I was astounded. I decided to write this immediately.
Do you remember the first time I ever wrote?
I was eight and it was for an article for Lakshmi Darpan, the school magazine. It was a letter addressed to you. It was the first time everyone told me I was good at it. It was the first time I was appreciated for writing. I continue to write, because you have blessed me with that gift. You painted the colors of passion in my heart at a very young age.
I see you everywhere. Be it the scar in my neck or the smile on all my besties’s face or that look of relief in my mother’s eyes whenever she talks to the doctor these days or in the quite throbbing of my heart, I see you and I feel your presence. No matter what they tell me, I know that it was you who blessed me with the life I am living.
Now, I’m having a little struggle getting up and moving forward. I feel blessed and challenged at the same time.
Because, Krishna, sometimes, I can’t get out of the “bold and brave” girl image I seem to have created. Sometimes, I can’t cry and I can’t tell people that on the inside I continuously feel insecure and frightened. I can’t tell them that my heart tinges every time I think of all that I have been through and all that I have become. They are people after all. They never understand. They are not you.
I remember one particularly painful night, three months back, in the hospital, when the nurses had a tough time finding my vein to implant the IV. And a few hours later, my fever was racing up and my head started to hurt. Yes, I cried, but that’s not the point here. I begged for you to make the pain go away, because I didn’t remember doing something so sinful that you thought I deserved to undergo all that pain. Few seconds later, out of a wild instinct, I rephrased my prayer.
I asked for you to give me the strength to tolerate that suffering, because deep down, I knew that the pain was there for a reason. Questioning it would lead me nowhere. But asking for help in enduring that pain was what faith was all about. And it worked. Well, I did not wake up to sunshine and rainbows the next day, but the pain had gone considerably because I was now a stronger person.
That night, I learnt a huge lesson in life.
Brave girls don’t cry. They ask for strength. And eventually, they are blessed with it.
Only you know that I have squashy sensitive side inside of the iron fort I have built. And you know that no matter what happens, I always depend on you. And I believe in you.
That’s the crux of this post, Krish.
I believe in you.
Love and more love,