Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The seconds clocked past as she sat there, her head buried in the darkness. Her figure was a silhouette, slightly illuminated by the 3am lamp-post that flickered every now and then. Every few minutes, there would be some car that passed by the nearby turn while a little bit of shine from its headlight led into the room full of darkness. She breathed harder than usual each time it happened. Her whirly hair cast a golden glow each time the light fell on it. There were none but a few sounds in the room. The constant hammering of her heart against her rib-cage every 0.8 seconds. The beep of the ECG machine lying right next to his bed. The whoosh of his breath escaping through the oxygen mask, fogging the mask up. The clipping of the fan overhead which might as well have fallen on her. She couldn't bare watching her father suffer from something he couldn't handle. He could handle everything, she thought. They'd called it Osteophytes, the thing that delivered excruciating pain to him each time he moved. She sat there conversing with a might that not all could fathom or face. But she knew that someone was listening.
I met her the very next day. Huge smile on the face. Jumpy attitude. Glistening eyes. I could bet that it was the tears and the crying from the previous night. Each time she spoke, her voice cracked up with uncertainty that went unnoticed by all. She'd stop talking to put herself back together and start talking again after a while. I could sense the discomfort she carried from the night at the hospital, and all the horrors that the dark room must've brought upon her. I didn't know her too well, but I knew that look. It was the same one I taught myself.
Coming across her and getting to know her better, I realised she was a lot like me. A face that is thought true by all. A smile that greets all those who plot her downfall. And a gesture towards the ones who need it the most but deserve it the least. Be good, do good. And let all that you do be done in love. She spent most of her time trying to mend broken bonds and conversations, not caring about what people thought of her. And if I had to pick one person I knew who genuinely believed in good, it was her. And each time I saw her face, it looked like the one of a true believer. It didn't matter if the people who she helped were 'bad' people. They were just astray of the path that all of us were supposed to be on. She made me realise that it's the 'bad' who need the most 'good' from you, and that you cannot give up on humanity. Because one day, humans will come through. It took me a while to wrap my head around that, but soon enough, I did.
All we look for every now and then is some love. A random act of kindness from someone we care about. A smile from someone who hasn't spoken to you over weeks and months. Any little thing that could help make someone's day just slightly better and brighter. Because in the end, we're not worth our fights. We're not worth our arguments and conspiracies. Not worth being the cause of another's sorrows. Or worth being someone's vendetta. A smile counts for so much more than a frown. And happiness overtakes sorrows, even if it is for the moment. Because in the end, humanity deserves so much more. Because someday, this post might just help you be the better man.
And it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for her.
The seconds clocked past as she sat there, her head buried in the darkness. Her figure was a silhouette, slightly illuminated by the 3am lamp-post that flickered every now and then. Every few minutes, there would be some car that passed by the nearby turn while a little bit of shine from its headlight led into the room full of darkness. She breathed harder than usual each time it happened. Her whirly hair cast a golden glow each time the light fell on it. There were none but a few sounds in the room. The constant hammering of her heart against her rib-cage every 0.8 seconds. The beep of the ECG machine lying right next to his bed. The whoosh of his breath escaping through the oxygen mask, fogging the mask up. The clipping of the fan overhead which might as well have fallen on her. She couldn't bare watching her father suffer from something he couldn't handle. He could handle everything, she thought. They'd called it Osteophytes, the thing that delivered excruciating pain to him each time he moved. She sat there conversing with a might that not all could fathom or face. But she knew that someone was listening.
I met her the very next day. Huge smile on the face. Jumpy attitude. Glistening eyes. I could bet that it was the tears and the crying from the previous night. Each time she spoke, her voice cracked up with uncertainty that went unnoticed by all. She'd stop talking to put herself back together and start talking again after a while. I could sense the discomfort she carried from the night at the hospital, and all the horrors that the dark room must've brought upon her. I didn't know her too well, but I knew that look. It was the same one I taught myself.
Coming across her and getting to know her better, I realised she was a lot like me. A face that is thought true by all. A smile that greets all those who plot her downfall. And a gesture towards the ones who need it the most but deserve it the least. Be good, do good. And let all that you do be done in love. She spent most of her time trying to mend broken bonds and conversations, not caring about what people thought of her. And if I had to pick one person I knew who genuinely believed in good, it was her. And each time I saw her face, it looked like the one of a true believer. It didn't matter if the people who she helped were 'bad' people. They were just astray of the path that all of us were supposed to be on. She made me realise that it's the 'bad' who need the most 'good' from you, and that you cannot give up on humanity. Because one day, humans will come through. It took me a while to wrap my head around that, but soon enough, I did.
All we look for every now and then is some love. A random act of kindness from someone we care about. A smile from someone who hasn't spoken to you over weeks and months. Any little thing that could help make someone's day just slightly better and brighter. Because in the end, we're not worth our fights. We're not worth our arguments and conspiracies. Not worth being the cause of another's sorrows. Or worth being someone's vendetta. A smile counts for so much more than a frown. And happiness overtakes sorrows, even if it is for the moment. Because in the end, humanity deserves so much more. Because someday, this post might just help you be the better man.
And it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for her.
No comments:
Post a Comment
If my neurons are drunk enough to make me write this post, they're definitely drunk enough to appreciate your criticism. Shoot.