Eight days of hitchhiking didn’t seem like a hassle as the last eight years of my on and off relapse into drug addiction. “Why did you do it?” Everybody would ask me, I told them a lie that they wanted to hear. Failed relationships, underwhelming career, solitude…They would advise…a lot. I gave them the satisfaction of making them feel better than me, a degenerate drug addict.
I had everything in my life but I lied. I was not ready to tell them that I was just.. numb.
And here I’m now… So this is it. The feeling of being alive. I had to make sure that this is real. The needle scars on my forearms are there. Yup this happiness is as real as pain. I could have stayed at that dark apartment and injected myself again. But things do change don’t they?
I took a long breath of that cold air. The stars they were not the same as in the city. There was a purity in their shine. Distinct and clear like shiny glass beads under a purple river of night. Nana used to tell me the Aurora are the beacon lights for the spirits to guide them into heaven. Oh Nana, how I wish you could see this. Maybe you are out there among the dancing spirits. I’m changed Nana. Wish you could see me now.
Her colours: Snigdha Das