WHY I AM WHO I AM

 They say life always gives us chances, we should just keep waiting. Many a times, I felt I have waited too long for something I don't know. May be some peace of mind? I really don't know yet. 

 People looked at me like an achiever. Family, friends, neighbours, everybody wished me good luck and blessed me. My heart pained because I couldn't shout back that I have achieved it and now I wanted to rest for a while. Negative criticism has always been there no matter how good you were with what you did. I made many around me jealous. I definitely took no pride in it but, without my knowledge, I started working harder. Just to stand up to the raising expectations, expectations that never came to a pause, expectations above my limits, I literally had to push my heart into it and myself. And then hypocrites enter your life in the name of friendship. Whenever I looked around, I used to feel as if thousands of eyes were watching me. Everything used to appear negative, and everyone like my enemies. Friends and family too. I might have been wrong, but to me, those who could not see my inner pain, those who could not understand my expressions, those who could not help me but criticise, I didn't want to see them anymore. I felt so lonely and insecure. I so badly wanted to disappear. Disappear from crowds, from people, from this world. But I was afraid to kill myself. I didn't want to die alone and in more pain. 

I tried talking out to let this feeling go away. Then I realised that I spoke to deaf ears, to hardened hearts, to people who gave more importance to society norms than my life. They called me mad when I spoke my heart. They even treated me for it. I so hated myself for being alive and still not be able to do anything. I wish they rather just heard me, heard my inner voice and showed me some love and care, rather branded me crazy. I smoked high just to get a feel of puffing out my pain. I enjoyed hurting myself or getting madly drunk so that I don't have to see them in my crazy hangovers. They judged me by my appearance. They avoided me for my behavioural issues. They said I couldn't handle success. Still they all wanted to use me, my skills. I tried to look beyond to find one single heart that genuinely cared for my feelings or read my inner breakdowns that silently were killing me from within with each passing day. I got lost in my addictions, started losing control over my mind. Severe sicknesses were creeping into my body damaging my looks and drying my skin. I had to cover it up with regular makeovers and at times, nudity. They got better wings, their words flying to heights limitless. I had no reason to care. Why should I, when they didn't care for me? Family gave up on me, loved ones left, career made no sense at all, donated all riches by freewill. All those who needed you everyday for their personal benefits, wanted you to go away from their lives. I already have disappeared in their eyes because I became useless to them again. I had absolutely no reasons to hold on to this life. I was happy that finally my time came, time to leave this wicked world and it's bitching people. 

Lying on that bed, ready to die, I wanted to write one final song, sing out in pain one final time, smile heartily for once, show my middle finger to all. That's when a prayer came out of my mouth instead. I didn't want to die without being heard or helped. I wanted to actually live, feel loved and cared. I wanted to make them put their heads down in shame. I asked God for helping hands. I prayed for one chance, one chance to start over with smiles. Anybody can stand by you and shed tears in your good times. But it is rare to see someone be there for you in your pain, sickness and downfall, encouraging you to not give up on life, show you many reasons to live, expect nothing much in return except your presence alone, accept you for who you are and the way you are, and promise to hold on to you no matter what. My prayers were heard and my wish was granted. That happiness was not eternal, but I am happy it happened at all and I smiled heartily. I can live with that. 

 They ask me now, "how do you write so deep"? They still fail to understand. What drives an artist to greatness is a great melancholy; that sadness and passion that goes along with it. It comes out great because the pain I went through was greater too. It's a tragedy that many great ones are driven to this greatness through a pitiful unspoken darkness which also makes them live short. Not everyone gets a chance to start over positively. Because many a times, we find no reason to start over. We look at the same set of people again and get discouraged. We got to look at nobody but a divine power that makes you feel so loved, talks to you everyday secretly and so openly, that inspires you to live for a special reason, that turns your pain into poetry. That could be anybody or anything, or nobody at all but your inner person again. The only thing you have to be mindful of is, don't ever be one of those people that let you down. Be like the one who stood by you. You never know, you could be THE one to someone like your past you, a reason for someone to live again.