Sailing over Lives

Its over!

This was the thousandth time Iti was reiterating the words in the last two hours. She checked her watch. It was 2:30 AM. The coffee was cold now. She stood up and drained the cup in the sink of her tiny kitchen. She made herself another cup and sat with an old book her mother has given her. It was one of those books a teacher would gift a student after the latter has repeatedly failed. Iti knew she was not going to read it but she liked holding it. It reminded her of her mother. Mother she hasn’t met for two years now.

World was just more than perfect when Iti arrived in New Delhi leaving behind the big lanes of Chandigarh. This was the place she was born and she was happy to be back here. She was the senior graphic designer at a leading Ad agency. Staying over at couple of relatives for 4 months, Iti decided to finally have it on her own. She found a little less decent lodging as compared to her sprawling bungalow in her home town but the run with struggle was something she had yearned for years. And to her amazement, she loved it to the fullest.

The moment she began to know her reality of a dream struggle, things begin to change. The flat provided nothing more than shelter, independence was more of a baggage, and friends …forget it. She stopped talking to her parents, her old friends and completely subsided into her own nut shell. A shell that was too hard to be broken. At times the urge of calling some one and cry loudly would come so strong but Iti always shrugged it aside thinking how will she explain her unhappiness? How will she explain why her world was falling apart? How will she explain her perfect life is not perfect any more? How will she explain that she herself doesn’t know these answers?

So she kept quiet and moved on with the sleazy pace of her life until one day when she decided to call the struggle off. No she was not going to end her life. She was the last person on earth who would succumb to the temptation of dying. She gulped down the coffee quickly which burned her throat. But she was too busy to feel anything. For the first time in two years she felt full of beans and began packing.

Where was she going? And why?

…wait for the next post to find outJ