Nothing was as weirdly beautiful as the way we both met, loathingly looking at each other at the train station, carrying our college books that aren’t well-sorted and heading back home. It was a sunny day, I looked at her eyes, described unfairly in words as following, wide, thick and long eye-lashed eyes hiding behind a lot of scenes witnessed either agonizing or cherishing calling me through my compulsive urge to translate people and somehow solve their problems if they deserve that.
A question after another summed up in accumulations having no answers, they were all shortcuts of a massive image that was cropped to give these briefed responses.I grasped the attitude of her which wasn't higher or lower than my anticipations, she's sad, unwillingly talking to people, and reflects her anger in a disoriented way that might hurt people and cause her to be seen as rude, but what I saw in her eyes was a total nihilism, she seemed careless about the impression people take when they meet her. I didn’t bother any longer, we rode the train whereas it started making squeaky noises while the wheels were moving onto the railways, we passed by green fields, spectated injured dogs drinking from the stagnant water filling the countryside water pump as they were compensating the feeling of thirst, thirst to live for few periods since people don’t look after them, letting alone how brutally they attack them by stones and wooden sticks, we also watched other landscapes while the train was slowly moving and they were all in the fields, where green crops change their colors as soon as they bloom and grow, giving a perspective of hope that might be decisive to those who are really corrupted inside, they won’t easily believe it…
The green-fielded road was full of junks thrown on the pavements, people riding commercial cars to export goods from the factories, total silence nearby homes and hung torn clothes over the ropes that are attached to a window of a consumed and nearly-falling bricked house, we saw poverty, we saw shirtless men, youngsters and elders standing by the same coffee shop everyday smoking and drinking a cheap-branded tea. Everything looked quite realistic in a painful way.
And though it was painful, it was showing the good side of the story… the surviving. Despite the bread loaves dropped on the floor might be poisonous or dirty enough to make someone sick, people still survived after eating them… she was staring at her phone ignoring the facts shown outdoors, she looked bored and sick of the current circumstances, the same way I feel clueless to make a serious radical change on our lives… but through methods like black comedy, movies, drinks, foods and arts we can partially dissociate from the roughness of the dark days we encounter.
I unlocked the phone, changed the music as no one is even listening to the other beside, and I started to scroll down the social media hoping to find a purpose to laugh, remaining overloaded by melancholy will not cause peace but it will definitely cause an explosion, thus, to cause none of the above, I chose to take a seat beside “Lili” and watch comedy videos leaning on her bony shoulder. She started giving out laughs delicately and I was waiting her to burst but it appeared to be her normal laugh without a doubt. It was that moment she started to act less aggressive to me, we started chitchatting and gossiping about our weirdly-assigned professors and how to modify their subjects before exams, hence make the information less complex, we started sharing a talk about our both habits in such atmospheric moments of the educational years, and finally we exchanged our numbers.
She never texted, she used to upload videos of herself with different animal filters making random sentences that burst a laugh out of a man, high sense of humor! That’s my type… I started commenting on them showing praises to the content creator, showing pleasure that she was laughing and messing with people’s brains by these videos, she was also fond of political news learning different things and letting her brain speak through her fingertips typing on the phone. When the exams passed I asked her if she was available to hang out, she never allows my concern to tranquilize, and she always grabs my attention and leave me no other choice but to get closer to her.
Meal after another, drink after another, streets walked after another, and photos taken even though she doesn’t like to pick a photo of herself, the reason why she mostly disguised in those filters that portray you as a humanoid animal speaking… afterwards, this progress led us to a point where we could be friends…
Until I was allowed to enter her apartment, meet her family and listen to their conversations loudly-uttered and see them fighting no matter guest they’re hosting at theirs’… until this moment our friendship started taking a slop up to close friends classification… all my theories were approved correct, seeing a girl with a cold appearance that laughs delicately and stays silent most of times wasn’t enough for me, I seeked to know more, and the fact why she was very fluctuating was being frequently abused by who they call “father” and “husband” in the household. He has no mercy in his heart, and for those who have transparency they recognize instantly his fake purity, sweet talks and polite behavior when he meets a stranger, many in the slummy neighborhood they inhabit pay him the respect, but when he locks the door behind, letting the walls to prevent spreading the sounds of screams and slurs, letting the walls muffling the oppression and hiding its pictures from people’s brains, when the door gets locked, a wife is beaten, siblings are seeing each other violated, likewise cowardly hiding waiting their turns in a very anger-inducing scene. A girl was made of ambition, faith and love was turned into a girl filled with grudge, obsession about death and nihilism… I could put myself in there, replacing my soul with hers and my body as well to feel what she feels and to act how she acts accordingly… even though my hardships are way different from hers and I can’t say falsely that mine are less painful than hers. But I still could share the suffering with her, decrease the heaviness of the burdens and to help her within my knowledge.
A pact was signed permanently by both of us to stand by each other and endure the pain together, each one of us was seeking the way of survival suitably, clinging into the muddy and dirty mountain, looking at the top of it, telling it that the resistance of our souls is continuing to find alternatives after the losses we had… she found different jobs and applied for many to distract herself from home and what it holds inside from secrets and outrages… she chose this way, and coincidentally I did the same but indoors, the profits weren’t a thing we rely on that much but we relied more on the time we spend outside or inside doors…
This phase we spent together was full of love, confidence and support which wasn’t a coincidence, it was a fate written by both of us… we made sure to choose to live not leave, to breathe not to bleed, and to heal not to peel off more of our skins by sharp nails or sharp tools…
We met people, we thought together, succeeded, failed, learned, listened to each other and fought as well as hugged…
But the events took another path leading to an unknown destination with no gestures or signs, she fell in love and she knew that he’s not matching with her traits and will not give her the love she needs, she knew it faithfully but she couldn’t help but keeping herself framed in that “one-sided love” aspect, I couldn’t blame for her not listening to me, I was aiming to solve the problem with her more than thinking about the past, it’s just me sometimes can’t deprive myself or my beloveds from knowing the truth I often can’t triumph the urge to state facts, to awake the people in the ambience, but for her that day she was sure he’s not going to be with her, I lessened my advice-giving spirit that talks about the past and I tried listening and giving solutions at the present, one time works one time doesn’t, one time we’re both clueless.
“Lili” only felt disappointments all along during her lifetime… in family, friends and the person she loved and gave him way too much energy…
Her brain couldn’t manage even a simple amount of happiness, that’s why I was there for her sharing simple details that help charmingly to overcome hardships. We always loved to sit on the roof by night, take aesthetical pictures of the starts, the yellow-light emitting from the bulb installed by the edge of the door, and the tea cups or cocoa cups on the ceramic tiles left to cool down from the heat after they were boiled… we went to restaurants forgetting our wallets one day, therefore, we pretended that we wanted to use the restrooms, we ate fast food in the recklessly-drove vans seeing the sauces leaking from our sandwiches and laughing at each other becoming confused to manage eating, paying the cost of the ride and wiping our hands and scarfs from the stains, we even accessed very calm places that look haunted and dangerous, letting the fear devour nothing of us as we fear no death… we walked hours and hours, wrote letters, vented in many different ways. All of this was gradually vanishing until it was blown in the air as smoothly as ashes, after she was neglected by the world again that disregarded her feelings and overloads and gave her more overloads to carry after a breakdown caused due to unhopeful one-sided love case. Until the better we’re awaiting to come, she will be in another process of healing, we know no time, but what we know is to always find alternatives to survive… she condensed her working times and trafficked her schedule, that’s her way to survive…
And on another hand I had to travel abroad with my husband to manage my problems and get re-educated and have a better quality of life… I had to recall, I had to send lots of messages and to beg her to meet me… and it was once before I travelled thanks to the space fractioning a job timings from another that I could met her throughout.
We hugged for the last time and I know how much it’s painful for her giving up a lot of dreams and still look for others to fill the gaps, but seeing her surviving was the key to a mild nirvana I have, and I offered my assistance to be taken for granted in case she needs me. While I was going to exhibitions to offer my paintings and artworks she was working as a private teacher earning her living and wasting them later on relevant stuff she finds beneficial for her, I was happy seeing both of us becoming independent, my marriage life taught me to do things only my mom did, and since I’m learning efficiently I feel like I can handle a household… what kept me bothered mostly was us not being able to talk to each other. She started ghosting me, she started to see everything as corny as before… she never texted again since we dealt to talk by midnight one day… none of her family reported her missing as far as I knew by following their media… they all became absent too causing concerns to dwell me. I sent my siblings messages asking them to visit her but they never opened the door to any of them… it became weird, all of sudden, no single soul among them responds to the outside interactions!
My husband couldn’t be less than noble to understand my worrisome thoughts and feelings activated according to them, but he never went agreeing about me checking on her in my country myself… the police took the reports and put them aside letting all the safest assumptions to wander their brains which implies from their perspective that this family is fine but a bit secretive and their case isn’t quite significant as drug-addicting and murders.
Sometimes you never expect to have your plans ruined vigorously by certain events that come to crash not to fix, to demolish not to construct, all I was capable of was leaving my husband safe and sound promising him to come back, and buying the tickets from saved money earned by selling those paintings to the gallery…
I can’t be happy if she can’t feel the same too.
My family was informed the day I arrived, I gave no seeds for any of them as these seeds grow up to be roots and trunks until they give a final shape, I gave none… no one knows why I came… greetings I had and tenderness I sensed from them were capable to extinguish the fire in my chest a little bit, and to finish the doubt part I told them my reasons and gladly no one really got as worried as me because I look find for them… but deep down I’m holding a lot… my feet were heavy moving outside, heading to her home, I was sweating, panting and wishing to see their door opening once I knock… I went there, stayed halt onto one of the stairs steps, before I knock, and I hear her father clearing his throat while his footsteps sounds are approaching more and more, I thought he would open the door until he changed his way to a certain room… right there, I felt betrayed, I felt angry, to be neglected all this time… I waited until the night… and I saw a neighbor passing by willing to ascend the stairs… I was prone to ask him about them…
And I was shockingly told that the little sister was hit strongly by the father and dropped dead on the floor, ever since that, none of the family members managed to talk to anyone.
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