Affliction is something which nobody can define. Even I can’t. It is always felt and then forgotten. Some forget forever and some remembers everyday. I should pat my back and also thank a few who helped me get out of the continuous affliction that tore me apart the whole last year – I was never the same anymore. Some people say you become strong, you become this and that … But nobody knows what I have become … Let us forget what I have become, and focus on what other people perceive of me… A friend told me that people have branded me as someone who is emotionally unstable and all my writings/poems seemed as if they are the product of such instability. He is an honest guy and what he told me about the perception is true.
Funny, that people, for whom I am going through such affliction, oblivious of it (highly unlikely) asks me to have fun, celebrate festivals …. very condescendingly.. and worst part is that they pretend to have not known about what I have been through …
I don’t know why I am writing this post but will soon figure out … perhaps it’s a product of my mental instability … perhaps celebration is for other people …. perhaps other people should always celebrate … but leave me alone …. I don’t want to celebrate and never will …
Wordsworth beautifully wrote the following in The Affliction of Margaret:
Beyond participation lie
My troubles, and beyond relief:
If any chance to heave a sigh,
They pity me, and not my grief.
Then come to me, my Son, or send
Some tidings that my woes may end;
I have no other earthly friend!
