“How worse can it get?” she asks herself. And no, it’s not a rhetorical question this time. She really wants to know how bad her day can be. Mumbai summer heat and traveling in the locals all day, makes her very grouchy by sunset. She wants to experience everything at once and get over with it, at least that’s what she thinks. “Aah! I’ll get use to it” she has been saying this for months now.
“I don’t pay attention to the world ending. It has ended for me many times and began again in the morning” she reads somewhere and feels like someone somewhere is talking her talks. So she begins her day looking in the mirror, lifting the edges of her lips upwards. A fake smile look funny on her pretty face, which makes her smirk. Yes, she has learned to make herself smile now at least.
A recently turned Anti-social female finally leaves her house in the morning. She hasn’t been around the human race since a while. She has lost the sense of being around things looking and functioning like her. The evolution of her feelings is very dramatic as she moves from the known spaces around her house to a fully functioned public scape at the railway station. She suddenly feels like she belongs in the crowd. Even though the feeling of being alone drowns her, she is learning to swim. Even though everyone is alone, moving in different directions, they are not still, like she has been lately. Even though she knows it’s just the beginning of her ‘one of those days’, she feels positive.
Skipping through the day, evenings are her enemy. She is physically and mentally tired, it’s getting dull outside, and dark inside. She returns to the empty house with an empty heart. She is back to the people-less space again. The storm of thoughts build up gradually and puts her world in disarray. No one to talk to, no one to smile with, no one to look at… and the house turns cold with lot of room for her thoughts to die before blooming. Her world is at apocalypse and she turns up her stereo to the maximum volume. Not out of frustration, but to get a peace of mind. The sever silence followed by the bursting speakers, making her brain cells numb… is her remedy.
With that calmness she apprehends her arbitrary, floating thoughts and settles them down on a paper. “Broken heart produces beautiful art.” She has heard it somewhere, but after all that she has been through, she asks herself… “Is it worth?”