Shibusama and A Bleeding Life

I forgot, I almost had forgotten it too soon, this child in me, who used be curious, be loving, pecking me all over, telling me you are free! Oh, how those fairies and stories and cartoons, oh what not?

I was the one in the only underwear on my skin talking to Baghira, I was the one who used to kiss the prince at the end of every sugary Disney story, I was the one who used to win the race slowly and the one proving the Princess was real. Oh! How I was beyond what you told me, silently agreeing on your words but creating my own mirror world which was creative and my own. I was the Shinchan, I was the Tom and Jerry and I alone was the one who used to cry Doraemon!

My child, the child, I forgot it! I lost it too young. I played games, tell other kids so childish of you, while the child in me crying to prey on that cartoon, candies and confetti! Celebration! Isn’t life so? Oh, ok ok, I agree I might be lesser than others (bragging about childishness) but still… Oh, those tears I miss, which kissed my cheeks for things like breaking of little Barbie. Story! Oh yes! Story! New stories I used to plot with whatever teddies and stuff I had! I was the teacher they were my students or, or, … Oh! though alone still felt so complete! Making tea for mom- dad and they used to drink that “nothing” too giggling at innocent me! Child! That child in me! They let it fly and let me paint in whatever way I wished.

Shut, oppressed, depressed and thrown in the thorny bush, telling me you are no one but what we tell you to be! 
Why did you tell me I’m different? Why you gave me the independence to think? How can I adjust to this place now? Tell me.

I bounded myself, myself. You didn’t. I know. Never ever. I know. And I changed as I grew, becoming mature enough to understand that it’s okay to wear one piece but then I’m so so so away now in my thinking too; so much so that I don’t feel home in here, oh, so alienated! Literature broke the bars but my body is confined still, in this cold and warm place.

And so the heart was big and in pieces, given like that sweet, that blessing after prayer to eat, to everyone I meet. My own beats? Lost, lost, lost. When breeze screamed or kissed or told me things, I fed and filled my void, my emptiness– bliss! bliss? And the mysterious adulthood, I experimented and felt and thought– alone; Alone? Even you weren’t there, oh, my family! I wasn’t able to tell you anything but still more than other kids like me. Masturbation, love, friendship, religion, sex, addictions, wars, history, women’s in history and oh this uncomforting society. What not had I thought and felt? Everything, everything! Depression I was living. Depression, I started feeling warmth in; such a cosy and addictive state of life it was, I was hopeless, wanted to die, wanted to give up; give in.

Saved, saved. Thank you, dear family. I was saved. All on you! All on you! I love you. Each one of you! But still…nothing. Nothing. Silence, silence. I just accepted outside, still thinking beyond. Changed, changed. Beyond I thought. Still, still. No, no, no! Alienated I used to feel still when…

You came… 
Unveiled that kid again in me. And right now, right here, I realised, amidst this positive and joyous celebration of happy voices and faces! Oh! I feel this love! This kid in me! I’m again, feeling that lost breaths, shine in me, beating again my heart and this light dispersing all over my heart, blotching through and filling in that black area, overflowing from the brim, streaming in my each and every cell! Joy, oh joy! No!! Oh, bliss! Oh, bliss!

These people and my mentor, and my own self, tried and tried and tried, to make me feel alive again. I did felt so each time they were here or I was with them… But missing, oh missing, I was missing a person like me. No one! No one to hark my everything, to meet, to go along with anytime we wished. No one, no one. No one alike me! Not even my own parents! My siblings! Darkness reigned my soul. Death lingered on me as I kept it hidden in my mind gag, so close to me, it was mine! Just mine! I kept it like my soulmate. Working just for the sake of working; to give back what they have done for me.

You rubbed my illusions. You brought me back to my being, while still let me drown in better places of my fancy and dreams; Illuminated my skies, my life, my existence. And who are they to tell whether you are bad or good? They don’t even know me! So, they don’t know you at all.

Probably, I’m alive, in its deeper sense, just because of you.

Perhaps because you were on the same abyss, falling down steadily, like me.

Thank you, dear dead man. Thanks for making me an innocent and independent again, letting that child in us come out sometimes again, and so able enough at times to go beyond these people, these norms, these restrictions, these masks and talking of science and humanities, building us better, and rising again and again.

That asteroid, which was burning everything inside-out, is breaking the known facts of science, is now flowing like that wind, facing the tides and controlling them, radiating and redolent like sun and sandalwood, entwined with the mud, who was the only one, who not just understood and loved me, but responded back, spoke up and harked so attentively… Keeping not only my ashes but the bruised and burnt me.

Copyright © Ritika Gupta 

Image : (Copyright) Entwined © Shuprobho Das 

Read #shibusama (29 parts) an (autobiographical) anthology, for him, by her (@ritikapeace) on Instagram.

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1 thought on “Shibusama and A Bleeding Life

  1. Reblogged this on @ritikapeace and commented:

    Awesome…First time ever received 100 lovers and readers for a story. Thank you so much @ Scribblers Arena


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