The Light in the Room – a short story

For some particular unknown reason, she has lived the life of impotence. I have never felt like asking her the reasons. Why? Because like all other people around her, I, too never suspect a smile.

I can say that I just followed the photographs like childhood children without zigzag brains. Therefore, I was never her favourite friend to whom she could have talked to.


The very Monday I went to her house, in her room, to her home. She seemed overwhelmed to see me but I wasn’t surprised. She told she could have died out of irony of her own existence in this extremely hygienic room of hers, which she condemned! She desired a better room, which I assumed, where her habits would have ruled her. For few more minutes, I kept listening to her complaints of her existence in the house, where the cupboard was too spacious and a double bed where she slept alone. A little later she seemed to realize that my expressions were indifferent and her jokes remained unsaturated.


“So, what did my parents tell you?” She finally arrived at the point.


“They don’t wanna lose you”. This was the first time when I spoke.


“Very well, then. I don’t wanna lose myself too” And she smiled.


“You can’t shut people out of the room simply like that”


“I don’t do that. I just shut myself here, that’s it. As simple as you want.”


“Sounds the same to me though”


“I can’t help it if you don’t get it”


“Simple? You have never opened yourself up to anyone I know. How will anyone get you?”


“That’s the bad part. I never open up to anyone. And even worse, I do not like to do so”


“But it won’t help either, you do know it”


“I have already assumed it won’t help either ways”


“You never try. Did you?” I was not satisfied. Her casual replies were getting onto my nerves. “You never tell. Not to your parents. Not to your sister. Not to friends. Not to me too. You never really talked about yourself and keeping quiet do not help, it’s taking you away from everyone who loves you. Know that”


“I know that”


“Then, why is this silence all about?”


“Look, I am happy. It’s just that I feel sad sometimes like any normal person”


“I see you smile with hundred teeth out in every photograph doesn’t always make you happy, right?”


“My friend, you do not understand. I feel much happier when I am alone and I am being plain selfish but that’s what I am supposed to be. I am a human with heart, don’t you agree?”


“Well, that’s the confusion. We never saw you sad. You have been our joker and I admire you for that. But you are alone, as you just said. Why? I would like to know the reason.”

She didn’t answer. She seemed lost yet again in her selfish world of faraway happiness which I have described in discourteous utterance even though the other part of me still wished highly of her unconventional mind. Having thought a lot, which I again assumed, she spoke for the first time, in a voice that was so depressing that it gave me a secret hope.

“My dear, years back when I was sad, I would always cry because I was stupid. Sadness was so new to me then and secretly I enjoyed getting the attention from people. Years later, when I am still sad, I have started hating being sad. I hate being emotional. I hate being pathetic. I hate being romantic. And sometimes I can’t bear touchy words. I hate being anyone I would have loved to be years back. I hate this sadness and at times I hate it so much that I get frustrated when I see people who are sad and emotional. And then I start cracking stupid jokes every now and then because I can’t bear the intense silence that surrounds me. I crave for happiness. I die for it. I breathe for it.”


She continued after a pause.


“I have a lot of friends but none to whom I can talk to. They are my party friends, photograph friends, homework friends, music friends, etc etc. But when I walk to the streets for medicine, I walk alone. When I need to have my food, I eat alone. When I need to talk to someone, I talk alone. And day by day, I am getting used to it. It’s all in my schedule. And if you are wondering why I haven’t spoken up to anyone till date, I do not like to force my suppressed tales to anyone and I shall speak up if I find someone to whom I would like to. But one very unlikely truth in life is that no one understands our feelings even if they have passed through the same situations. People can only console because they don’t want us to be bad. So I try finding an alternative to this situation by keeping quiet and smiling away”


“When I am outside, it’s much easier for me to let my mind sway sway sway and fly. Only to return home, BACK TO MY ROOM, to face myself. And the life that exists outside this room becomes of mere importance. All my emotions that have been concealed from people are born here, in this room. This is the place of my existence. I grow here as a person in front of my own eyes, which are only mine. Once again I start living among the truths. I start thinking. I find the peace. I live the remaining part of the life here. I live here. Yes I do. Along with me, the whole life seems to submerge in this little spacious room of mine and I would not call it ‘shutting myself here’. I travel more than when I am outside. I travel within. I travel within me. And I grow living here.”


“My loneliness cannot be described in mere suicide or sheer poetry. I am lonely which cannot be shown. I have accepted what came to me, only to move on”


Silence


It was a long silence. I could have made a mind to agree to all what she just said. But I wasn’t in her shoes. I had my own set of interpretations of how I would deal if I were in her place and that, like her unlikely truth, was not all understood.


But before I could open my mouth to speak, I heard a sound that was so familiar. I tried hard to not pay attention to it, only to realize that it was getting unbearable. By now, it had totally swept my mind. I was under control and I opened my eyes. I had just switched off the alarm clock which explained the familiarity.


It was ten minutes to nine, early morning. And I woke up to find myself on a double bed sleeping alone in a room where everything was extremely hygienic.

Advertisements

Maybe You Could Leave a Reply.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: