Starting a graphical series, in an effort to make this cold season a bit more interesting, to practice my amateurish photoshop skills and to get back to blogging!
You know how you have to go the loo often because of the cold? But then, once you do go, all the movement and contact with water makes you wanna have to go again and colder? Sucks!
My sister burst into the room, eyes shining with excitement. Her team had made it to the second round of a competition they were participating in. She was breathless, laughing, jumping. In a matter of seconds, she had already left the room to break the news to our mother.
And I just sat there wondering how to tell her that this was at the best part of her life, that she needs to always cherish this little moment and make sure she has many more like these.
Just sat there wondering if there was a way to stop time; longing to stop time. For her to be this happy. To have this happy. Forever.
So I saved the lecture for another day, went up to wish her luck and said a silent prayer for her happiness.
I see her old and frail and sick. Barely able to articulate anything. Shaky. Disoriented. This is what it comes down to, after ninety years of living: being a child, but without the perks. Slowly disintegrating.
Seeing her feels like a gut punch. Every time. A gut punch of pain and guilt pangs.
I can’t imagine what must go through her mind. I can’t imagine how it feels. Or what my father feels.
God, please, please, please give her health. Please, please, please give both my parents the strength, both physical and mental, to help her as much as possible. Please, please, please.
“Good luck to you,” she whispered in my ear as she pecked the air next to my cheek and walked away.
My brain told me to say “thank you” – that’s how I’ve been brought up – but I was caught off guard and cognition was limited.
But she is right. Good luck to me indeed.
In a world where I have to convince, argue and force people all the time to let me keep doing the things I am doing or let me do the things I want to do, I need all the luck I can get.
Don’t get me wrong: I am not oppressed or suppressed. I enjoy almost a first-world like lifestyle despite being a speck in my third-world country’s population. But I definitely live in a place where even a broader mind does not let go of (their own definition of) traditions, social structures and the its-always-done-this-ways. And people like me will always want to travel in two different boats at the same time.
It will always be done this way. Good luck to me indeed.