The day I saw hope again was the day I may not forget anytime soon…The light seemed enough to keep me going through all the dark. But the hope is new born, its like an infant who is weak.. A slight jolt would push it hard, would hurt it, to an extent that’ll either take time to recover, or will just be unbearable for the time. I don’t want my fragile hope, this weak little infant to go through this pain…I thought I’ll give myself a chance again. It’ll be wrong to say that I thought I’ll give someone else a chance, because really, you don’t do it for them, you yourself need it more than anyone. So, I thought I’d give myself a chance again…Hoping I’d succeed..Knowing deep within that i won’t… but still hoping…or trying to hope, at the very least!.. But the wounds are fresh. If I try to pat them now, it won’t be long before they bled again.. and I don’t want that! Because the wound is mine, the pain that’ll be felt will be mine, the loss of blood will be mine, which I know no one else keeps the capacity to clean for me… and I don’t want them to either!
May be I’d give myself a chance once they are healed, when there is a covering over it, the dark side of my beautiful skin, that i know will eventually chip off..if not rubbed off too much. The scar will stay, might stay, as I m not quite sure. But it’ll be my skin that’ll feel beneath that scar. The skin that covers my flesh. The skin that hides all that is to be hidden… all that may be common amongst us all, but is not to be talked about… The beautiful skin that hides our tabooed! our nude flesh, with all its colour and odour, with all its despicability, with all thats to be hidden.
And here I am, scared to give anything good a chance; with the fear of being hurt. back to square one, I am back to where I started.. They say the fear of something dies down once the fear has been realized.. may be in my case so far this doesn’t hold true. The fear pushes me back into my box. The fear of my flesh getting exposed, and it hurting.. and it hurting alot!