Make A Wish…

That leap of faith. The leap that made me lose myself. It was an outer body experience. I never knew I would out of all the people become prey to life’s enduring challenges. I was always a high-spirited, self-involved, content, ego-driven, ambitious girl who refused to look back or look down. I used to be stronger than my problems, more influential than my excuses, greater than my insecurities. But now, I can hardly relate to the person I was, just three years back. I have become unopinionated and scared, scared that I’ll trade my soul to the pinching realities of life.

I was someone who people wanted to be. Zealous, carefree, admired by most of the lot, perfect in the friend zone, deadbeat in the sappy zone. My friends meant the world to me, love did NOT exist. It wasn’t the skin I was forced into, it was the skin I wanted myself to be in, the skin I had stitched myself to.

 Long back I had made a promise to myself, to not cede to the world I was going to barge into, to not succumb to the hurt I was going to be disposed to. I always wanted to be the only one to be in control of myself, unyielding, undefeated.  Then I grew up, and all the pledges that I had taken began to fade into darkness, slowly and gradually I let go of the reigns I had held for so long. I convinced myself into trespassing the reason why I had made all those promises to myself, why I wanted to hold on to them, why I was dismissing them.

 As I grew up, I met new people, my priorities started changing. The cocoon of self-indulgence started disintegrating; I rubbished the recognition of my worth. All sense of self-appraisal withered away.  I was walking on a bed of rocks thinking they were pebbles. I never once realized how acclimated I had become to self-ignorance and self-pity. Hurting and getting hurt, feeling wronged and fooled at the hands of the caustic and incisive reality; it was a vicious cycle. It was driving me insane, to think of it, it still does. It makes me want to run to a distant corner and never come back. Makes me feel strangely small and unwelcome. I began banking on others for my happiness; I was no longer the only person who had the authority over my emotions.

 I miss home, the warmth, the affection, the security, the feeling of never growing up; the virtuality that always seemed to be so real and charming. I miss the time when things like love, hurt, belonging, attention, competition, betrayal were just a fair play of words I never fathomed but wanted to. Now, that I have walked on all these roads, I wish I hadn’t, I would have been so much more at peace with myself.

I hate the way people have started seeing the girl in me, and how they’ve realized that I have a sensitive spot too, that I get hurt too. Time is an ugly game; you want to play it even though you know you’ll be losing.  I have become the person I never saw myself as, the person I would have despised a few years back. Emotionally vulnerable, easily hurt, beautifully and tactfully played with. Sometimes I feel like leaving the overcoat behind and vanishing, or maybe serve my soul on a plate for people to see what I’m not, what I never dreamt of becoming. I don’t know what lies ahead, if what I have in hand will stay or slip from between my fingers, because I don’t want to cling on to it, it’ll stay if it is willing to. . . . .

Life will trick you; it will bewitch you with its charm. You either play along or you devise a game of your own. You can’t avoid it, can’t abandon it, so what is it that you can do? Either watch it as it nonchalantly destroys you or play the illusionist and let it enjoy thinking that it has maimed you…

                         -Akankshaa Diksha Sharma.