Adults, English, Write Ups

A Promise to Me…

-By Kalpana-

She sat in a corner. And as always she began her conversation
with self. Rather, it was the self that always initiated it.
‘What are you doing?’
‘What am I doing?’ She questioned back with a smile.
‘Really? You have no idea what you are doing? Rather what
you have done to yourself?’
‘You mean to you?’
‘ ! Let’s not get into an identity crisis controversy’ the
self snapped.
She only smiled with more indulgence. Angering the self.
‘It’s so easy for you to smile like that. Do you know how painful
it is to get buried alive under the wall of meticulous destruction
of who your ‘I’ was?
‘And who is this ‘I’?’

‘I.. me.. you..was such a vivacious, jovial, out going,
spontaneous, social person eager to embrace life with
abundance. But, all you did despite your tall claims to be loyal
to me was to steadily quiet me with promises of ‘later’. And that
later still isn’t here’.
She smiled again.
‘It’s here. We are here. How would you be still sulking and
shrieking if, you were buried? Look at you, all kicking and alive.’
‘Kicking and alive? More like kicked and…??’
‘Lost for words?’
‘Yes’. You sure must be relieved about that’. Self retorted.

Self sulked. Turned around and balled itself into a foetus
‘Ok. My only me. Let’s talk today. I won’t prevaricate. Let’s have
a heart to heart’.
Self grunted. But, I knew it will listen to me with my ears. So, I

‘My me has broken into atoms and molecules of care and
responsibility. It flies out to engulf my loved ones. Their
dependency takes small portions of me. My investments are
now growing as ‘me’ in them. I know, I am slowly disappearing
as I tend to ‘I’ of my dependents’.
‘Yes. But, the ‘I’ of the dependants do not give in an inch of their
self. Unlike you. They are intact. Indulging their self without a
care. They absorb you, drain you, leave you devoid of lively life,
and here you are just a shell’.
‘No. I am not a shell. As long as you remain as my ‘self’, as my
core, to have these mute conversations.. I am alive. I know a
day will come when I will sit in a rocking chair, with a content
smile, a spring in my step and come alive. And once again
laugh with you..’
‘Specially, when I say, I wanna see you dance again’.
‘Yes, specially when you say that. For you see those elegant
steps of a tango can be danced with self too.
‘So, you stay there. Buried alive. I will clean the debris when the
time is right.’

‘That better be soon. Before you tie your silver hair into a
thinning bun, before your bones are a creaking mess, before
your spirit forgets the steps..’
‘Yes, yes, before the debris chokes you down. Before, will wilts
me down. Before the blooms withers us out, before the time
dulls our edges, before the dusk falls into darkness, before my
heart forgets the spring, before the summer breeze freezes to
cold north winds..’
‘What are you doing?’ Bellowed a voice.
‘She must be day dreaming as always’. Came a response.
‘Coming’, said my ‘she’. Winking at me.
A promise to me.

-By Kalpana-

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