Voids

Your hair fell partly on your face covering your left eye as you looked down, and that was all it took to take me back to the time when I had first seen them flying as winds kissed them on their way. I saw those eyes, that would broaden every now and then whenever they found magic around them, unaware of the fact that I was the one bewitched by the spells, still trying to decipher what exactly were they trying to say. And to top all that, your lips, that smile, both the partial pleasure grin, as well as the full fledged display of your dentition, which would fix my gaze almost permanently until they were disturbed. You were happy, or at least, you looked so to me. Poor me, for I still have a hard time differentiating between the actual ear to ear grin originating right from your bosom and the formal restrained one. Poor me, I thought, for I am still unable to read my girl's eyes, when suddenly, mother reality whipped me. She isn't my girl.

That one sudden moment took everything away in a flash. Every memory that was imprinted a few years back had already finished its job of poking holes into my heart. I would like to call them voids, because that way, perhaps you would know the state of non existence of my soul, perhaps that way you would know how desperately I want those empty spaces to be filled, how badly I want you to see those vacuums not as mere defects of my poor self, but as places to put your love into.  I want you to kiss my wounds and see how responsively they heal. But till then, till the time I make you realize that I need you to make a life out of my existence, I need to find ways to constantly keep those voids at bay. I need to stop them from spreading their roots at the bed of my heart because the more I allow them to dig deeper, the easier it will be for them to eat me from within like termites, as they have already been doing. If I don't start filling those holes, I would end up being a log of wood which looks rock solid from the outside, but is actually hollow and vulnerable from the inside.

In all our lives, we're left with voids. Voids created by our own mistakes, or the ones deliberately gifted to us by God, or the ones imposed upon us by others, all of them contribute to the pain, which in most of the cases, we are forced to live with and in some cases, are forced to make friends with. Pain consumes you from within, it makes you weak, makes you susceptible to threats which at some point of time you thought you were immune against. And in time, it becomes your master, it starts controlling you, your dreams finally succumb to it and your life becomes its slave. Each of those voids now look like huge craters or like those magnanimously deep wells in which, if you fall down once, it becomes an uphill task to climb out of it. At those times in your life you must find ways to fill those craters with mud or to cover that well with a cap.

We all have things that we love to do irrespective of the fact whether we're good at them or not. And during these times, those things are the ones that come to our rescue. We call them hobbies. Apart from that one column to filled in the Resume, we really forget to think about the importance of these small things which are actually not that small as we think of them to be. Use them to your advantage. Use them to fill those voids and tell your master that there is a lot of life left in me still. Go sing, go speak out your emotions, dance off your miseries and knock your mistakes out of the park for a six. Read books and sooner or later you would find that world amidst pages much more interesting than the actual one in which you have to fight. Read, re-read and then write. Write about your joys, your sorrows, your worries and your loved ones and you would be relieved, at least for the moment. Sketch out the love of your life, fill her with colors and keep it next to your pillow with the hope that someday, you don't just have to sleep with the sketch.

In a nutshell, we all come with an emotional baggage which is the major cause of pain, but then, the key is to take that baggage and try to unload it one at a time and convert it into something beautiful, something that you've always loved to do. And very soon you would find that all those debates, all those on-stage performances, those dance moves, those books that you read and the notes that you wrote were the fillings that you needed to make those immense craters look like tiny rat-holes. Though none of these can permanently ease the pain, though you still might need to cry your heart out in the darkness of the night, but they can for sure keep you busy each and every day of your life, and I don't really need to substantiate on the fact that there is nothing better that a busy life. As this song goes-

"Take that rage,
Put it on a page,
Take the page to the stage,
And blow the roof off that place."

Follow your passions, your hobbies, if not on a big scale, small ones would also do. It would make each day of your life worth living and well spent and as the time flies, we find that it were those days that made us who we are today.

Do this, so that one day when you get into your dream company, that happiness won't just be utilized to fill the voids because you've already filled them to large extent. It can be used to make yourself feel that you're not dumb, that you deserve it, that you have it within you and that now you would see your parents smiling and you would know that the reason is you.
Do this, so that one day, when she comes back to you, she would have to spend lesser time on your wounds and the entire eternity on your lips.
Do it, because there is just one life and you are bound to make it large!