Fiction: Beginnings
It’s fifteen minutes into the training and I’m already annoyed. Nobody told me this would be such a waste of time. I have a hundred other things to do. I’m about to text my supervisor my feedback when things get interesting. We get put into groups of four. Ah! Looks like there’s more to this training than someone droning on about standard deviation and statistical analysis. My group has three others, one is a friend I’ve known for years, a girl who’s barely 21 and looks like she’s just arrived in the city and a third person I’ve never seen before but is clearly good friends with my friend.
We are given a task to complete within the group and the work kicks off in full swing. I find him intelligent, good-looking and a bit cocky. His cockiness annoys me. Not enough to make me detest him. Just enough to intrigue me. The half-day training ends and the girl excuses herself, says bye and gets picked up by a gentleman who’s clearly her father. My friend asks what I’m doing for lunch and I tell him I have no plans. He invites me to join them. I say yes.
It’s half an hour later when the conversation steers towards philosophy. I say something that he insists on contradicting. I pause. I reflect. I try again. Again, he’s got a contrarian view. I wonder if he’s deliberately trying to rile me up. It’s clearly working. My friend watches on, a mute spectator. He smiles, cocksure of what he’s saying as he demolishes yet another argument of mine. I’m now extremely annoyed. I challenge him. He quotes something in Sanskrit. I’m struck dumb. I’m taken aback by the verses that I clearly understand.
He smiles. It’s a drop dead gorgeous smile. “You didn’t expect me to know this did you?” He asks. I admit that I didn’t. “You say you don’t like people being judgemental, but isn’t that exactly what you did?” I lower my eyes, unable to meet his gaze. Yes. I admit.
“Come here.” I hear authority and insistence in his voice. I look up. He’s steps closer. “You’re extremely interesting you know? And beautiful too.” I hold my breath, not sure of what he’s going to do next, but willing to wait and watch. He gently puts two fingers under my chin and lifts my head. He smiles, silently seeking permission. I shut my eyes, giving it to him. He kisses me. It’s a kiss that takes my breath away. It’s a kiss that makes me want more. And then I know. This is the beginning of something very beautiful.
A writer’s journey…
The last four weeks have been intense for more reasons than one. So much has changed. Practically overnight, I found myself without an anchor. I flailed around for support where none was forthcoming. But I guess what doesn’t kill you indeed does make you stronger. And it did. I did not rise from my ashes like a phoenix. I struggled. I cried. I’ve needed long conversations, medication, therapy and more to get me back on track. But I survived. I guess my success rate for survival is 100%. And so far so good. But the past month has also been one of introspection. Of what I want and what I don’t. It’s made me think back to the years and months during which I never wrote.
As I mentioned to my therapist a few months ago, it wasn’t a slow, gradual death. It was as if someone had reached over and turned off a tap. And then I died. With every unspoken word, I died a little bit on the inside. And then one day, my soul seemed to have left my body. I still existed. I lived my everyday life. Cooking. Cleaning. Laundry. Dishes. Movies and friends. Everything but what I really wanted to do. Everything but writing.
The block lasted three years. And then the words came back. They came for a reason best left unexplained. But come back, they did. I may not write as much now, but I know it not for lack of words. I know now that I can say what I want without fearing consequences. I have finally learnt to shed the baggage that came along with marriage and relationships. I have finally learnt that who you are on the inside never really changes. And I am ready. I am ready now to stand my ground and declare to the world that this is who I am. I am still anonymous to most people, but I am no longer averse to meeting people who know my name and also my twitter handle. I no longer want to hide behind the veil. Because I have no reason to.
So here I am, wanting to start a new chapter of my life, leaving behind all of the insecurities and worries that have characterised my life for almost 7 years. May the next decade be fulfilling and happy, not just for me as a writer, but also for me as a person.