Story: From the Diary of a Middle Child.

The following is a story, it has no connection to the writer or any other person, living or dead. The work is entirely fiction; advice and feedback would be appreciated, not criticism. Thank you.

-I am simple. My life, I guess, is okay. It seems so. There seems to be less problems and troubles than those faced by others. Sure there are times when life seems to be crumbling down. Its real bad then.  Like the times when my elder sister would slap me right across the face for no reason other than the fact that she was angry. It’s happened more than once. More than half a dozen times.  Of course I don’t go whining to my mom. No, I prefer to cry in peace and not talk to my sister, or try to do so.

I am unusual. Different. I don’t drool over celebs or people of the opposite sex that others tend to find *cute*. I simply don’t notice them and I have no comment on them. Nada. No, I am not homo. I am weird.

I don’t like it when my little brother gets ignored. He is sensitive. It’s his right, he needs the attention. I try to make him feel better, he fails to gets it. But I try.

Why don’t they realize? Life has its problems but it gets better. A straight road is no fun, a curvy one holds all the adventures.

**********

 

-It’s not a joke. Life. It’s not a bloody joke.  No matter how much I try or what I do, she always stands right. Always. Haven’t I always done more for you? You have no idea what she says about you and behind your back. Or do you have any idea that it’s me always reasoning with her, putting sense into her. You don’t know. You hate me. Because she is your first and she’ll always be, right there number one on your list. No matter what I do or how hard I try. I am never right. It’s always them, always her. Why? Why me? Why do I face all the troubles? Even when I try to do the right always. I try not to break your trust like she has. I do not talk mean of you to others. I try to never think badly of you. It’s all useless though. When you don’t trust me because I’ll always remain wrong. I never believed the face that the middle child is neglected. You've proved me wrong.

**********

 

-There is a soft blurry edge to everything. It’s hazy. Everything  looks funny as if each item merges into the other. As if watching through a sheath of heavy pouring rain. As if it’s a mirage. Out of focus and bokeh-ed, forming into bubbles and then tipping out of focus. Moving; side to side. Unstable. They loose colors as if drained. Black and white. Then grey. A big ugly blotch of blurry grey. Getting bigger, darker. Swallowing me up, painlessly. Good. The pills are working.

  ***********

-Momina.

Crazy Ramblings #6

I have started relying on coke for when I get stressed. I just fill up a big coffee mug with it's cool blackness and sit in a quiet corner nursing my issues. I guess you have to, sometimes, you reach the level where you can't bother others with your own problems. It's then that you lean on these worldly non-living-but-fizzing-in-your-cup-as-if-alive things. I know it's mostly desserts people prefer with the whole phenomena of stress-spelled-backwards-is-desserts but coke is just as good. It doesn’t out does chocolate though, but it works fine, really. And the way it pops and fizzes in your mouth is somehow very calming.

And while I let out my concerns to coke, it frost the cup, letting out it's on the big mug it's filling. And I suppose the mug lets it out in the air where it all mingles with other stuff hanging there; looked over stuff, avoided stuff, disappointed stuff. It's there, together in it's loneliness. Like me. like us. I think too much. Next time I'll try calling a friend while drinking that mug of coke; someone to hold me in the reality, while I am probably going crazy.

Momina.

Being a 'me'

There is a pleasure in passing through pathless woods, a sweet pain in getting lost; a pleasant thought of getting away. Leaving everything behind and escaping unnoticed, as if dreaming.  Enjoying the acquaintance of complete strangers and for once letting go truly because there will be none to judge you, call you or remind you of the seemingly endless duties.

Patiently enjoying the company of one’s self because in that moment nothing matters.  You can speak when you want to, avoid what you wish to and conduct your heart with peace.  Sitting loud and lone like a distant sea shore, devoid of tensions and pains. Smiling at self control and weeping for one’s desire. And when it’s all calm and clean you can go back to being a ‘me’.

Momina.

Roadside treats

We all travel an aimless, useless journey. It’s nothing till we move on and realize, and it’s then, that it becomes meaningful. Striving us towards a purpose and strengthening it as we move on. The result always tempting us to move further, one step faster, one jump closer. We are fragments of nothing until there comes a reason of achievement.  We are just travelers of a barren road attracted by the occasional treats to feed our purpose.

But one often embarks on a journey with a mind set so adamantly on a subject that we forget most of the journey. We forget to enjoy the path. There’s always the leaping forward and grabbing the prize; what comes to you on that way is of not of a mere importance. And in those moments of lust for the prize and the fire of winning we very often lose. Not the race but to the reality; to the acceptance that, that which came to us on the way was far more important, more infinite than the end prize itself only then you’ve lost it and seldom does it comes back.

-Momina.