The thunder woke me up. I thought my insomnia had left for good, it was monsoon… Give me a break!
The thunder was louder now that I was awake. I yawned a big yawn and stretched my arms outside the blanket. Grrr. It was cold. And as if teasing me, the wind blew right over me, wiping away the tickling strand of hair off my face. I opened my eyes a slit and saw the bolt of lightning through the window right above my head. I giggled deep in my belly, as the memory of a lonely girl crying in front of the mirror, accompanied the flashing light. Was that me? A vague memory of myself afraid of the thunder and the dark. The memory of myself, being unattended when I cried my fear out of my eyes. And all the eyes saw was darkness. My eyes were dark, the smile dissolved away and that memory sent chills down my spine. Or was it the wind again? With utter discomfort, I got up, turned around in the lonely room. Found support and rested my back, pulling up the blanket to my face.
Yes, it was me. Afraid of thunder, dark, loneliness. It made me giggle because I was not afraid anymore. But I was sure that this darkness resided deep within now. All that I feared was locked deep inside, with all the other emotions and memories it acquainted itself with. I shivered again. It was the breeze this time.
I wondered, feeling my fingers on my face, I wondered, if I was the same girl still. If that little, silly girl still found a home in this body. I wondered if that lost, blank face still existed beneath this skin. I wondered if those tears were still welled up in the eyes, in the shallow depth of the full heart. I wondered if someone inside was still afraid of the dark, still feared the lightning, thunder, still craved for that love, or were they dead already?
I wondered. Turned around to face the clouds, hugging my knees inside my blanket. I faced the thunder, the lightning and did not blink when it flashed. With goose bumps on my body, I looked right into the darkness, waiting for tears to well up, waiting for fear to show itself. But none did. I was alone in the room, alone, with a dead girl inside me. That girl, who would have never opened her eyes to see dark, who would have run into the corner when lightning struck, who would have covered her ears when the clouds roared. She was dead. She was buried inside me. I could not feel her there, but I knew she existed. Eerie enough. So I sat here in the lonely dark, paying my tributes to the ghost of my past.
I felt my lengthening hair tickle my back, a chill ran down my spine when another lightning bolt appeared but made no sound. I waited for what felt like an eternity, for the thunder to roar. And my heart ached when it finally did. My body ached with the shattering pain. The realization of having crossed that barrier in life, to have passed that phase, to have become a fresh, new soul that I was now. The realization that the girl inside me was dead and was never coming back.
I stared into the dark clouds, into some more thunders and flashes of lightning, and saw everything she had seen. The pain, the red eyes, the silent screams. I did live that way, even now, but it was different, my tears, screams, pain, were so much different than that little girl’s were. I saw every memory and waited for tears to show up, but they did not. Not a drop of tear, only cold, dark eyes, staring into the cold, dark night. Somewhere the sun had risen up, and the dark night, turned blue, and a few drops fell. From the clouds. One by one, I heard the rain banging the roof on my window. The night had listened to my story and cried in the grief of the little girl’s death.
I sat there, smiling. I loved the rains, even if I knew this rain was not the happy rain, it rained with all the sorrow, forlorn and weak with pain. I still loved it. It knew what I went through, what darkness I carried within, and it was here, the rain, in the form of tears of the night, washing away any darkness remaining, and finally bringing in the lights. Pitter pattering on my roof, with a melody so sweet, sorrowful, but sweet, finally putting me back to sleep, finally…..
Words from ©The Word Warrior,
PS: Read the brighter, happier beginning of monsoon here. The Pre-monsoon post! Every Drop [MONSOON I]