Skip to main content

S.J. : Fear

Its Fear. She had been trying not to think about it from long. Today is the day , perhaps.

Its fear of listening to one's own heart. She thought it once and accepted after a long tussle with her heart , that her heart lies. It all started some seven years back. As a child she believed strange things but since no one could prove them lie, she was happy, happy with her heart in her own world. But then people began to come into her life. Who brought Realities. Who brought Beliefs. Who brought god-knows-what-things. And then it began. She listened to her heart and each time realized that it lied to her. Who was the best friend earlier, her heart, became the most hated thing. She began to hate her heart for it told her sweet things that don't exist, it told her to have faith on strange people, it told her it was love when it wasn't... She is afraid, she ... her heart said she loved him... while ... she ....

She wouldn't be able to believe her heart ever. She wouldn't ever come to know when love would really happen. Was there anything left in her life... after voices, shadows, blood, imaginary deaths, suicide attempts, all those night terrors and shameful incidents that she survived , she lost it at last from her heart, a heart that ever lied.

Comments

Anonymous said…
heart ... a mystery heartfelt... growing into youth from adolescence, tilting to the mind over the heart, getting into the universal paranoia ... every body wants to dampen the beats of vitality n embrace practicality ...
but happy is one who can turn the table, develop an unshakable ''reverse paranoia'' ... n as u say '' just believe '' that someone out there is plotting meticulously for u to be happy ...
heart will beat for u but its some more time before u appreciate understand its language ... till then be optimistic :)cheers!!
@ngel ~ said…
I don't know about the Optimism. But I have Survived the tests.

Popular posts from this blog

Esc

Red-green-yellow. Lights. Lights off. Silence. The night and owl stories. Lust. Loneliness. He called up. Late in the night and remained silent until he could sleep. She listened to his silence and the monster who wanted to drink blood, not rain. He was not in love. He was honest enough to tell her. She was happy to read him, blindly. The script was being written. She read many... many more.... At times, she prayed to be saved. At times, she got tangled. Then he held her hand, showed her love... She searched for keys. Hastily. Gasping. Pressing. Backspace. DEL. Esc.

when colors speak...

It is so real, isn't it?  I loved the colors... Woods are calling me.... A silence... A path... A spiritual feeling... drowning in Orange effect   - Vincent Van Gogh 

P.S. - Something Unspoken

Hey Vish how are you? I am great darling . How about you? I am good. What’s up? Nothing . I was just having a little booze party with my best friend. Who? Shanky? Yeah ! Who else could be? Wao ! What’s wao in this? No , I mean its good you are with Shanky. Now you will introduce me to him. Right! Shut up! Please Vish … let me once speak to him.. I like him. Why ? What have you seen in him ? Nothing , just his name is nice and I think he would not be lunatic like you… What? Lunatic ! Oh ! Great… listen Jeanie don’t take his name otherwise … What otherwise? Common you are a friend and you behave as if I am your girlfriend. … ok Fine! Go … talk to him. No… leave it now! ( After a brief pause) Jeanie! Yeah! ……… ( A long silence creeps in) Say Vish! Nothing. Vish! I want to tell you something. I made a blunder. What Jeanie? Vish … I got involved in s** with somebody …. Someone who is married… ohh… but not physically it was something … mental s**… I don’t know how to explain everything.. You