She was scared. She was a dreamer who had stopped trusting her dreams. She was a good heart. But had not always been right. She had stopped making decisions. She smiled often. But for months now, her smile did not reach her eyes. She was a stone- being knocked by random feet. She worked, but found no meaning in it. When someone asked her name, she told. But it gave her the feeling of having introduced another person. The self in the body was not hers anymore.
She had learnt loss. She had also accepted it, giving up the one thing she ha always lived by- her confidence. She had the same problems as the rest of the world, and her ways of solving them were same as the rest of the world.
She cried sometimes, but not knowing why, she stopped. She felt pain as a physical heart ache. But she had no answer for what actually pained her. She had a lot to rejoice: she was loved and cared for. She was invited everywhere. She got all the gifts the world had to offer. She even had talent, luck and a perfect ambition.
But she had forgotten ways of returning the love. She took the care for granted. She did not go to the places she was invited. And she never really wanted the gifts of the world. She stopped polishing her talent and stopped walking towards her perfect ambition.
She was stuck. She kept looking at the world around with wide eyes. The world gave her the confidence, the wonderful experiences, her own values and ideas and it gave her Love. This same world today seemed distant, strange and wrong. Because it had finally revealed its greatest and dirtiest truth to her. And after everything, she refused to accept the Truth.
And so she stood there. Stuck. She could not go back and she would not go ahead. She found the meaning and refused to understand it. Time, the greatest healer could not heal her; not this time, not ever.
Then one evening, getting out of yet another class, she saw a tiny figure. Walking as if in another world, that tiny girl, faintly seemed familiar. As she stepped slowly down the alley, she got pushed and fell. Her bag split, and the contents on the road. The kid stayed that way for a moment. Then she sat up, and looked around herself. Resigned. She did not move. Just looked.
She moved fast and at the next breath, she was beside the little girl. With a momentary glance, she began gathering the books and pens. The little one stood up. “Are you hurt? Is everything okay?” The kid nodded. And in a flash, a tearful eye said thank you. Bag on her shoulder, eyes up ahead, she walked away, into the world she came from.
She kept looking at the tiny figure. And after long, she looked at herself. She walked to her bike. And when she switched it on, she made her first decision in months. She shall pick up her own pieces. She shall forgive herself. She shall live again.
She accelerated. And she took decision after decision. Hers was a mind waiting to work again. It was on fire- working, thinking and moving faster, and more clear than ever before. She thanked her mind. She thanked herself. She was grateful she had a bike, which she raced about the beautiful city she loved. She was grateful for the black sweater she wore. She was as warm and cozy as a baby in bed. She was grateful that she was there, sitting on the bike, wearing the sweater, as she felt air go inside and come out of her- she was breathing. And she aware of it. She was aware of her being, her own name, her body, its beauty, her femininity, her humanity.
And then, she smiled. If you met any person who went past her that evening, on that bike, wearing that black sweater, and smiling, they would tell you that it was the most beautiful picture they ever saw. She smiled and it was what her eyes did. She smiled and that was what every person looking at her at that moment did. At that moment, she lived.
She smiled and smiled at the trailer before her. And she was smiling when it struck her. The bike toppled out of the way. The life was pushed on the side walk, struck in a moment, and in another it was not there.
She lay there, wearing the bloody black sweater, her bike in splinters. She may have not even realized the pain. She was dead when she finally lived.
