Tuesday, March 30, 2010

A remedy for a broken heart

There's a subtle flutter that goes through my tummy when i hear his voice. It's like a soft breeze. Yet, it envelopes me like a warm blanket. I get a strong urge to smile and most times i give in and let this urge engulf me. I am a pro at removing non related thoughts so i can work. However, i find myself drifting to thoughts of him. The urge to smile has come again. Unconsciously, i wait for that special call. I do not know i am doing this until my phone rings and it is not him. I am overwhelmed by my disappointment. He knows i have missed him. Sometimes i try to feign anger because it has been so long since we have spoken. He quenches my charade with a few words. I countdown the hours, minutes, seconds until i am in his arms.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand whenever he is near. Memories of his fingers brushing her neck sadden her. She moves to make a quick exit. Seeing him will break her resolve. She tries to work to forget his voice. Thoughts of him run through her head. She has to call someone, a friend, to make her smile. What would she do if he called? The urge to breakdown and confess her sorrow overwhelms her. She fights with all her might and proceeds with a facade that she has moved on. She hopes he does not realize the cracks in her composure. She wishes for a moment in future when all feelings will melt to indifference. What is the cure for a broken heart?

Sunday, March 21, 2010

When an egg floats



There's dust everywhere. We try to keep the dust out but it gets back in. Its in our shoes, on our beds and in the bathtub. The air-conditioner has packed up. its cooler outside than in my room. I can't function properly under these circumstances. So i'm writing this on the roof of the cafeteria building. There's a little breeze tickling my cheeks. I know my face is white because i forgot to bring along a scarf. However, the thoughts i can feel rushing through my head make this worth it.


Some days back, Eno was boiling some eggs. I watched her scoop one out and proceed to throw it out. I asked her and she replied "it was floating, its obviously bad". I felt this was wrong. Even humans are treated this way. Does being different make us bad? 

I saved that egg because i thought i could relate to it. I used a felt tip pen to write 'I am special' on it. Yesterday, i was in the bathroom when i heard my roommate ask "what is this?' this was followed by a splat. Yes, she threw it away. 

P.s. I googled it and apparently, when an egg floats, its actually bad, but thats beside the point.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

A few steps to hell and back

I am writing this post with tears in my eyes. I cannot say for sure
if they are tears of happiness or sorrow. What I do know for sure
is that they sting. I can taste their saltiness as they run past
my mouth and I wonder if my eyes are red yet. I am waiting for news.
News that will change my life.

The past few weeks have revealed a lot to me about myself.
I used to be scared of being alone, so I surrounded myself with
people that ended up hurting me. I used to base my decisions
on how other people would feel. Now, I've learnt that the best
decision is the one where you choose to do good. Not everyone will
like this. Some may even hate you for this. But in the end,
you'll be happy. I know I sound like this is my will,
but you'll soon understand.

December 2009, my doctor 'proposed' that I had a form of cancer
known as Choriocarcinoma. People who know me always jokingly
ask "what disease have you not gotten?" This is because I usually
fall ill. Even though, this news made me cry. I told my sister.
Only my sister. Two weeks ago, I finally gathered the courage
to get a test done. This time, I told no one. I did not want
to put anyone through the suspense. So I went through it alone.

I'm presently waiting for the results of my test.
I hate hospitals. The smell drives me crazy. I watch people
setting appointments and wonder what ailments they have.

The lab technician walks out of the lab. I can see he's holding
my file. He walks towards my doctor's office and returns empty
handed. I count to ten and a nurse asks me to go into his office.

Now he's reading the file. He doesn't complain about my phone.
I wonder what he sees. He's looking at me and saying nothing.
I have to drop my phone.




It's negative.