You know that fancy,
Having a broken glass in hand
Sharp, and striking it through the wrist
Over and over again!
Tearing everything in the path
The threads, the skin, veins
Gushing blood and moments of pain
Counting till the last
Visions of all the was
the knives that stabbed
cups, full of poison
and that helplessness…
And now free, free of everything
Free of all the stabbing pain
Have you ever felt like the skies came crashing onto you? Like everything just went haywire? Like everything that one had planned was splashed with water and now all the color, the ink, the plans are washed out? Like everything that ever mattered no more exists?
What does one do? How does one fix the skies? How to put the broken pieces up there again? What glue to use? Would the pieces stick to each other like before? Would the glue be strong enough to prevent it from falling again? Would this pain be just once in a lifetime experience? Could it be?
And on top of everything, there are these people called writers. Overtly emotional. Always on the verge of tears. Broken with the slightest touch and hurt by a pinprick. What do such people do? Where do they find their solace, their peace? Is there anything like peace for them?
Is there solace?
We are told that the ladies who are the easiest to look after are the most blessed.
The question remains, do we treat them as the blessings that they are said to be? Do we treat them as they should be?
Or do we, because of their low maintenance, just neglect their needs?
Because they do not make a fuss and create havoc every time their needs or wishes are not fulfilled, do we overlook their needs? The things that make them happy? The subtle forms of care and love that could overjoy them?
Do we forget doing the things we would for other people because they might just start throwing things in our face? And because these ladies make no such nuisances, do we just ignore them? Take them for granted?
Or for that matter, any person who does not explicitly counter our ways, or do not make extravagant demands, do we take all such people for granted?
Planning things, eating out, conversations, or anything for that matter, any plan, we never consider these “low maintenance, considerate” people.
Is this what someone’s consideration is worth? Is this how they should be treated?
Or are we waiting for them to snap and move away to start looking at them and looking out for them? Or caring for them? And if we do, would it be what keeps them with us? Happy and content?
Or would they have moved too far before we realize they have given up on us?