“tell me about her. I’ll prolly seal that memory away but you gotta let it out” the psychiatrist said and he began.
It was about some four years ago. I was in grade twelve and was learning sketch as well as a musical instrument called dhime. Being introverted as I am I had a small circle and hated small chats with anyone. The circle I was in was just perfect for me; a cute normal girl, a senior to look up to, an older friend to be guided by and a super optimistic girl to counter my pessimistic thoughts. Outside my small circle I only talked bare minimum but once I got drunk and accidently called two sisters puta(grandson/daughter). From that day onwards they started to call me granny. It was a comic relief for me because I somewhat found it funny. I was hopelessly crushed on selena; the optimistic girl. But as I always have been on the other side of the luck when it comes to love she had a boyfriend. I had to get out of that situation so I made selena my bestie and looked for other alternatives.
Days turned into weeks and the training of dhime began to transform from a verbal learning into a physical training. Slowly weeks turned into months and I kept both dhime and sketch going. Selena was a good friend to me but well I had to fall out of the unrequited lover zone. Little did I know that a scar with a beautiful story had started to form around that time. And apart from my little circle I kept in contact with those two sisters that called me granny just for the sake of the …. Sake.
One day when I was just doodling into the notepad when seren, the little sister came up to me “you are learning how to sketch right?” she asked
“I am but I don’t do that good. After all it’s just been six months” I replied
“could you teach my older sister that? She is shy to ask you in person.” She said
“sure but I don’t think I’ll be of much help cause I still am a beginner. “ I replied
“no worries. Just teach her what you learn.” She said
and we agreed and sealed the deal.
My days went from being dull to busy.
I went to sketch(art) class on alternate days and on the days that I didn’t went to the class I met up with sere; the older sister at various places to teach her how to sketch. Sometimes we’d exchange (lets just call it exchange) at my home, sometimes at her home, sometimes at some café and sometimes at a local museum. The reason I called it exchange is because while I was visiting you on the monthly basis doc. She’d give me advices on a daily basis. She was studying nursing so she had a ton of info. On mental health. So we were exchanging knowledge.
During this time I had become a little distracted by her, sere. I mean she was cute. A tall body with a cute face and a calm and collective attitude, I mean any guy would fall for her. Slowly by slowly I got attached to our this routine and I was having a blast. I was learning how to handle my problems and was walking around with a cutie. I had begun to fall for her. Days turned into months and it rolled on. We had gotten close and had been calling each other besties for quite a while now. Well it’s not like our exchange was strictly professional. We had some private talks too. I had told her “you can’t turn to art with an unclouded heart” and that’s what I had learnt. She said that she had in fact a clouded heart but that remained a mystery until much later.
“maybe we’ll be more than friends someday…wait we are more than friends. Ok lemme rephrase that. Maybe we’ll be more than best friends someday. No! I’m sure that we’ll be more than best friends someday. Let’s keep on continuing our talks and teachings shall we? Bye my friend. See ya tomorrow” is what she said.
There’s a dialogue in a hindi movie
“ek awaj hai jo mere kaano me goojti reheti hai
ek chehera hai jo mere aakho ke saamne bar bar aajati hai
mere dil ki sukoon hi wo”
(there’s a voice that rings on my ear
there’s a face that flashes before my eyes
she was the peace of my heart)
yea that’s what she was. Those are the last words that she said to me. she was wearing red sweats, blue jeans and a pair of sneakers that day
She got a sudden placement on a nearby hospital for a month, no holidays since she had just completed her nursing training a few days back.
Then that disaster occurred. Everything was in chaos, I mean the whole nation. She went as a help but got caught up in the debris and lost her life. I didn’t react much that day but the force that had kept me going, that had kept me hungry for art died that day. A few months later everything became stable an I resumed art class but it just wasn’t the same.
My little circle that I had dumped me and formed other circle and I moved on and formed on another circle. I dropped out of the art class and continued my life. Made a girlfriend, made new friends but she was always in the back of my mind.
Almost a year after that unfaithful event seren; the younger sister had told me why she had a clouded heart. I had ignored it but after I dropped out of the art class that reason kept on haunting me. the reason why she had a clouded heart was because she had a crush on me and that art was just a medium to get closer to me. well she did actually had a genuine interest in art though. she was a keen observer and quick to catch. But I couldn’t forget the fact that she had a freaking crush on me! me, the introvert, pessimistic, messy, weird and a mental patient.
Flash forward a few years and here I am in front of you. After seven months of breakup, complaining about hearing voices.” He concluded his story
“well you seem to have symptoms of PTSD my friend”
“OK! But I don’t want her voices to quiet down. It’s what’s driving me back to art” he replies
“don’t worry preston, I won’t make it go away. You are a masochist and that little heart-ache is just what you need to be happy in your own messy way. You’ll be fine. I will conduct an experiment though. I’ll take away your sleeping medication and make you go to situations you’d normally avoid. Come to me after the week’s over.”
The psychiatrist concluded his diagnosis
“I will keep moving on…in your memory” preston thought as his vision blurred and the only voice he heard was that of sere’s in the deafening sound of the silence of the midnight…
#simu
-seul voyager
It was about some four years ago. I was in grade twelve and was learning sketch as well as a musical instrument called dhime. Being introverted as I am I had a small circle and hated small chats with anyone. The circle I was in was just perfect for me; a cute normal girl, a senior to look up to, an older friend to be guided by and a super optimistic girl to counter my pessimistic thoughts. Outside my small circle I only talked bare minimum but once I got drunk and accidently called two sisters puta(grandson/daughter). From that day onwards they started to call me granny. It was a comic relief for me because I somewhat found it funny. I was hopelessly crushed on selena; the optimistic girl. But as I always have been on the other side of the luck when it comes to love she had a boyfriend. I had to get out of that situation so I made selena my bestie and looked for other alternatives.
Days turned into weeks and the training of dhime began to transform from a verbal learning into a physical training. Slowly weeks turned into months and I kept both dhime and sketch going. Selena was a good friend to me but well I had to fall out of the unrequited lover zone. Little did I know that a scar with a beautiful story had started to form around that time. And apart from my little circle I kept in contact with those two sisters that called me granny just for the sake of the …. Sake.
One day when I was just doodling into the notepad when seren, the little sister came up to me “you are learning how to sketch right?” she asked
“I am but I don’t do that good. After all it’s just been six months” I replied
“could you teach my older sister that? She is shy to ask you in person.” She said
“sure but I don’t think I’ll be of much help cause I still am a beginner. “ I replied
“no worries. Just teach her what you learn.” She said
and we agreed and sealed the deal.
My days went from being dull to busy.
I went to sketch(art) class on alternate days and on the days that I didn’t went to the class I met up with sere; the older sister at various places to teach her how to sketch. Sometimes we’d exchange (lets just call it exchange) at my home, sometimes at her home, sometimes at some café and sometimes at a local museum. The reason I called it exchange is because while I was visiting you on the monthly basis doc. She’d give me advices on a daily basis. She was studying nursing so she had a ton of info. On mental health. So we were exchanging knowledge.
During this time I had become a little distracted by her, sere. I mean she was cute. A tall body with a cute face and a calm and collective attitude, I mean any guy would fall for her. Slowly by slowly I got attached to our this routine and I was having a blast. I was learning how to handle my problems and was walking around with a cutie. I had begun to fall for her. Days turned into months and it rolled on. We had gotten close and had been calling each other besties for quite a while now. Well it’s not like our exchange was strictly professional. We had some private talks too. I had told her “you can’t turn to art with an unclouded heart” and that’s what I had learnt. She said that she had in fact a clouded heart but that remained a mystery until much later.
“maybe we’ll be more than friends someday…wait we are more than friends. Ok lemme rephrase that. Maybe we’ll be more than best friends someday. No! I’m sure that we’ll be more than best friends someday. Let’s keep on continuing our talks and teachings shall we? Bye my friend. See ya tomorrow” is what she said.
There’s a dialogue in a hindi movie
“ek awaj hai jo mere kaano me goojti reheti hai
ek chehera hai jo mere aakho ke saamne bar bar aajati hai
mere dil ki sukoon hi wo”
(there’s a voice that rings on my ear
there’s a face that flashes before my eyes
she was the peace of my heart)
yea that’s what she was. Those are the last words that she said to me. she was wearing red sweats, blue jeans and a pair of sneakers that day
She got a sudden placement on a nearby hospital for a month, no holidays since she had just completed her nursing training a few days back.
Then that disaster occurred. Everything was in chaos, I mean the whole nation. She went as a help but got caught up in the debris and lost her life. I didn’t react much that day but the force that had kept me going, that had kept me hungry for art died that day. A few months later everything became stable an I resumed art class but it just wasn’t the same.
My little circle that I had dumped me and formed other circle and I moved on and formed on another circle. I dropped out of the art class and continued my life. Made a girlfriend, made new friends but she was always in the back of my mind.
Almost a year after that unfaithful event seren; the younger sister had told me why she had a clouded heart. I had ignored it but after I dropped out of the art class that reason kept on haunting me. the reason why she had a clouded heart was because she had a crush on me and that art was just a medium to get closer to me. well she did actually had a genuine interest in art though. she was a keen observer and quick to catch. But I couldn’t forget the fact that she had a freaking crush on me! me, the introvert, pessimistic, messy, weird and a mental patient.
Flash forward a few years and here I am in front of you. After seven months of breakup, complaining about hearing voices.” He concluded his story
“well you seem to have symptoms of PTSD my friend”
“OK! But I don’t want her voices to quiet down. It’s what’s driving me back to art” he replies
“don’t worry preston, I won’t make it go away. You are a masochist and that little heart-ache is just what you need to be happy in your own messy way. You’ll be fine. I will conduct an experiment though. I’ll take away your sleeping medication and make you go to situations you’d normally avoid. Come to me after the week’s over.”
The psychiatrist concluded his diagnosis
“I will keep moving on…in your memory” preston thought as his vision blurred and the only voice he heard was that of sere’s in the deafening sound of the silence of the midnight…
#simu
-seul voyager
Comments
Post a Comment