An Incomplete Ending
A young TV soap opera actress commits suicide. A beautiful, ambitious, hardworking and lovable woman chooses to end her life. Ending all of her dreams, happiness and most of all her own story. A story that now lays as a crumpled pile and torn out pages; complied in one single suicide note. A TV soap actress who lived on this earth as long as I did. Who saw the same dreams as I did - to make something worthwhile out of her life, to make her parents proud , find someone who would love her. She probably wanted to be a mother, grow old with a person she really loved, she was probably trying to find the purpose of her existence. But somehow her own life had become too much for her. Her dreams, ambitions, love, none of it mattered because every morning that she woke up to now was a curse for her. Every breath was suffocating her. She was probably tired, and decided that it was time to sleep. Was she a coward? You would say yes. For we do not side with people who run away, we pray for the glory of those who stay back in the battle field fighting like Abhimanyu till the last breath even though we don't choose it. We call them Heroes, the survivors, fighters all of these adjectives that praise the heroism of this battle we call life. But we spit at the ones who turn around before the battle begins .
What we forget here is that life is not a battle field, it was never supposed to be one. It is supposed to be that one friend that doesn't leave your side till your very last breath. A friend who stood by you when you failed that math test and were afraid to tell your parents. It was the friend that was with you when you sent that "risky text" to your crush, it was the friend who would be with you in thick and thin but what happens when this very friend conspires against you. Makes you feel like a nobody, slowly feeding you with doubts and fears who chomp up your confidence like maggots. What do you do when you are just not permitted to forgive yourself ? What do you do when your one mistake outweighs every success you become a part of? What do you do when you feel betrayed?
Yes suicide wasn't a solution - she should have spoken to someone, taken professional help. It wasn't that she didn't. You don't have that huge turn out at your funeral if you don't make friends. And these "friends" don't just pretend to know you. However these were the ones who told her to move on. The ones who told her that they were too busy to talk to her. Or the ones who told her that her "problems" weren't serious enough; she was overwhelmed, over-reacting that she just needed a drink or a smoke ,just one drag and it will be okay. Everyone goes through this - they have said - it's not that big a deal .
So she drank and smoked. Danced for as long as she wanted. Drank so she couldn't think of the times she let herself down and let others down. Spent hours dancing in a discotheques so as to not spend them crying; cheered when Virat Koli hit a six when all she wanted to do was scream till her throat was parched and her tears were dry. Pretended that everything was just fine when in reality she was exhausted fighting the battle she never wanted to be a part of.
She was tired, exhausted, she just wanted a way out. If only someone had told her that there really was a solution, an easy one at that: giving yourself another chance, forgiving yourself . Tell her that it was okay to fail once or twice, that things fall into place .
There are many Pratyushas , Divyas and Jias walking among us fighting with their demons everyday of their lives. These are the stories that deserve to be told , that should have had another chapter but were ripped off way too soon. The world is deprived of many such wonderful stories because we refused to listen to them when they were been spoken. So my friends listen up, listen to these stories as they are written so you can change them. Let there be no blank pages for our authors that didn't get out of the bed. No loosely strung episodes they were too drunk to write. Most importantly, there should be no incomplete endings...
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Photograph by Hannah Brattesani