I was 15 when the thought of dying first came to me. It is you who is responsible. You, who undermined my troubles , thinking, ” She’s acting out because she’s a teen. Dying? Does she even know  what that means? I was just having a laugh. I didn’t mean to make her fall off that cliff. I didn’t mean to make her wear full sleeved clothes in the sweltering heat, to hide the scars.”

Yes, you guessed it right. I’m talking about you. You, who told me that you cared and left. No explanation, no parting words to soothe my soul. You, whom I told my exact state of mind; who instead of taking it seriously, made a joke out of it. You, who made a spectacle of all the private things I told you, in confidence, thinking you’ll hold me. Comfort me. Love me,inspite of my flaws. You, who let out my secrets out in the world, making me look desperate for attention. You, who misjudged my character. You, who thought it was okay to judge the length of my clothes despite the fact that you objectified countless girls, in the guise of having a laugh with your gang of boys. You, who thought it was okay to insult my intellect, even though I completed your assignments on time. You, who was supposed to be my closest friend but sided with the ones talking behind my back. There are three more people involved. One, who let me lock myself up in my room and the bathroom floor for hours together, who saw my eye makeup smeared across my face and kept mum. This list has saved you for the end. You, who thought it was okay to touch my bare skin without my permission; not realizing that I was a person, a human being wanting to retain her will and dignity, because you could not tolerate being rejected. Lastly, it includes you,my friend who simply watched all this from the sidelines- who could have stopped all this from happening but chose to return to his comfortable life.

“Will the paramedics carrying me in a body bag make these people realise their mistake?”, I wondered. I pondered whether making these people carry my lifeless body out of the blood soaked bath tub will make them own up to breaking my spirit. I wanted nothing more but to make friends. All of you mistook my friendliness in countless ways. So later, I wanted all of it to stop, no matter what the price. I know not, what I did to make you dislike me so much. I asked you innumerable times to let me know if I had hurt you. But you thought hurting me back in a worse way would somehow make everything alright.

The answer came to me on a rainy night. I realised that I couldn’t force people to own up to their mistakes. The temptation to use the way earlier mentioned was humongous. But then I thought, “If my existence ceases, how will the next kid benefit? How will the people responsible for breaking me be reminded of what they did,so that they hopefully don’t repeat the same words and actions? I had to stick around for that. I had to live. I had to continue voicing my opinion for the next kid to decide to not give up. It wasn’t easy, let me tell you. Hiding and healing the scars, both physical and mental took me roughly 7 years. I didn’t think I would survive. But I found a reason to fight on. I found a way to both help the next lost kid and remind the people responsible for making me lose my path. I decided I would focus on my career in a direction where I would be professionally and mentally qualified to help those in need of a direction in life and that is exactly what I did. It is a rough road but it will get better once you find a reason to stick around.

Incidentally, I met all the people mentioned​ above throughout these 7 years and let me tell you, that expression of shock mixed with remorse and fear is worth it. It assures me that if not all, I have managed to change at least some people for the good. It is really satisfying.

So, thank you, all of you. Thank you for making me choose a meaningful path in life. Thank you showing me that there are vile people in this world too. You’ve made me wiser.

Lastly, thank you making me see the satisfaction in life. For your own sake, I really hope we never bump into each other again. Thank you.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s