The trouble with a space such as this – where words are sent into a void with the hope that one day when one ceases to exist, someone, somewhere will be able to make sense of a life that is meaningless – is the utter freedom that one enjoys and is also pained by. The control over the edit, of choosing to write about somethings and not about others is another form of masking…of hiding…of projecting.
The other day, I got a call at half one from my friend Ocean. For a nocturne in recovery, this use to be a normal occurence (a few years ago, the best time to call me was between 12 to 4a.m). We chatted about nothing in particular, just life and friendship. But it was nice to be reminded of the girl I once was, not the heartless, cynic I’ve become. It’s during the course of that forty-fifty minute conversation that I realised what an incredibly fraudulent act this kind of writing is- where one never really directly writes about either hate, nor anger, where one dances around the threshold of various emotions. If I won’t admit to it how will I ever let it go? When did I turn into a gutless shit who is afraid to acknowledge and display the darkest parts of herself?
The answer to that came to me when I was driving back from work today…I don’t want to forgive certain things and certain people that’s why I don’t mention them.
If I send them into cyberspace, I will be releasing them from the dark corners of my mind.
But God and Karma have been kind to me. So I have declared 2016, the year of forgiveness. Considering, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”, was practically written for someone like me…it’s going to be a heart revamping experience.
Top of my forgiveness list is Moi. For all my errors in judgement over the past two decades, I have had all the time to think, reexamine and reevaluate. ‘You do the crime…you do the time’. I have done my time… so it’s time I drop that!
A far second would have to be Ms S. I don’t want to get into how she has interjected herself into my existence. Do I begrudge her that? I have not been particularly pleased with the marking of the territory but no one can steal true friends . Meri buniyadoon mein he koi tedh thi. Apni diwaaron ko kyaa ilzaam doon. What has displeased me a great deal, is the invasion of my privacy. A month and a half ago I wrote ‘how not to hate each other’, after I received a bunch of really nasty messages. First, stating that our mutual friend thinks I’m a bitch (mind you this is a polite abridged version) then asking for my opinion about him. Since, I react the opposite of how people expect me to, I didn’t reply to a single message, instead, I just blocked her. But you know how hurt is…it manifests into anger and vindictiveness. Every single day, since then I have wondered why anybody would feel the need to instigate a person, who has nothing to do with their life? I have felt this growing resentment towards a person, I don’t want to feel anything for! But” Anger is a double edged sword and it generally cuts the one who yields it the deepest.” So I am letting it go.
Last on my list for now, are all the people who disappeared, when the shit hit the ceiling. I have come to realise that all of us are creatures of convenience and it didn’t come out of any special malice towards me. It was just detrimental to their self interest. I’m sure each time someone is struck by something life altering like loss, poverty, sickness, divorce etc they experience the exact same thing. It’s a part of growing up. No biggie. Plus, it has been a blessing in disguise. It has left me open to various other people and experiences. Time to let that go too. Enough already…my vile, vindictive heart won’t be able to do more than this, for now.
“We have all hurt someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident.We have all loved someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. It is an intrinsic human trait, and a deep responsibility, I think to be an organ and a blade. But learning to forgive our selves and others because we have not chosen wisely is what makes us most human.We make horrible mistakes. It’s how we learn.” Nayyirah Waheed.
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