Broken Glass

"Difficulties are meant to rouse, not discourage. The human spirit is to grow strong by conflict."

-William Ellery Channing

(You're strong. Don't let anything tell you otherwise.)

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Gauhar's POV

The numerous trees flitting by as we raced towards the hospital made me laugh at the irony. These trees that looked beautiful to me, and always managed to calm me down….seemed to lack life.

The swaying branches and rustling leaves seemed dead, omens of darkness. Or maybe it was just the fact that these things that were symbols of happiness and vitality appeared to be meaningless now.

It was all useless.

Wasn't it funny how our perception of things changed according to how we felt. The red roses that evoked a feeling of warmth and cheer when they were handed to you by a loved one, make you feel the opposite of it when placed on the tomb of a loved one.

These delicate flowers which were a mark of love and passion change into a manifestation of thorny stems that hurt and remind us of the loss of someone that had been important to us....the become a reminder of that part of us that's lost with the person whose gone.

We humans I realized, were very subjective. We viewed everything around us through the lens of our emotions. What seems bright and cheerful at a point in our lives, could very well become the very reason of our sadness.

I let out a deep breath, watching in fascination how my warm breath condensed on the window glass causing my view of the world to mist. As if it were a veil between me and the world outside, as if that fragile mist were protecting me from the outside world.

How laughable was this sense of safety that we associate with things that never last. The laughter of the passers by seemed hollow now, it was all temporary....and that made me scared to ever laugh again.

How pitiful indeed was human existence.

There was once a time when we would find joy in making drawings of whatever popped up in our wild imagination on the fragile glass. Writing away our dreams and hopes onto the glass, not caring that it could break anytime.

We never cared for the future because then, the present was much better and brighter to focus on the intricacies of the future….but now those memories felt like a faraway reality, which resided in a separate dimension.

It all seemed too good to be true, and it made me feel as if I hadn't been grateful enough for those moments of innocence. I regretted that I hadn't cherished those moments of childish amusement....I had taken it all for granted, but little did I know that the dream would very well end and reality was not pretty.

I wrapped my jacket tighter around me, clutching it till my knuckles turned white as I looked straight ahead. I felt a weird emptiness within me as I watched the tall and imposing buildings pass by. These buildings... facades that humans built around themselves. It made me scoff at how temporary it all was. How naïve of man to think that anything would last...that he himself would last.

The world was getting ready to embrace the darkness of the night. The darkening road was bathed in the lights of the little shops and the warm glow of the streetlights making the entire place look surreal.

It was funny I thought, that man had found a way to combat the darkness that surrounded him outside, but still struggled to fight the darkness within him. No matter how dark and helpless he might be from within, he managed to portray a bright and cheerful façade just like these little shops that lined the street.

The overwhelming anxiety within me made it difficult for me to maintain my composure. I bit my lip hard to stop myself from crying, I couldn't cry…I couldn't be weak. Not only for myself, but also for my father, my mother, my brother and everyone that mattered.

I wish I could punish myself, it was my mistake that father wasn't able to tell me about his pain. If only I hadn't been careless and lost my phone. If only Mr. Mishra had come to tell me about this earlier, if only things would always be alright, if only life stayed perfect.....

If only I wasn't useless.

But I knew that this was just wishful thinking, nothing in this world could be perfect. I was an idiot to think that we could move away from the past and find happiness in life. The past always would be a part of our baleful existence, no matter how hard we chose to pretend that it didn't matter.

I could fool myself all I wanted that things will get better, but I didn't want to get hurt again….. Like I always did. This time I had to embrace reality, because 'hoping' could never take us anywhere.

I turned towards the person in the driver's seat, Mr. Mishra was looking straight ahead. His jaw set firmly as he accelerated the car to run at the fastest speed that was legally allowed. I wanted to scream at him, to order him to drive faster.... to tell him that we couldn't afford anymore delay. But I knew that he was doing it for the best and my irrational wishes would only cause us more trouble.

I leaned back into my seat as I watched his entire face which was thrown in stark shadow, the fleeting streetlights momentarily illuminating his face. I couldn't decipher his expression, but by the way his knuckles had turned white and the rigid stiffness of his spine, I could say that he was tensed.

Was he also worried for father? Did he care? Or was it just an act of goodness that he was doing? I didn't know.

I wondered what it was that had shaken father so much that his heart, his strong heart that had endured so many hardships, to give up in its struggle to live? What was it that was strong enough to fracture his will, his determination?

What was it that was vile enough to have managed to break the strong man that my father was?

I felt a tear slide down my cheek as I rested my head against the cool glass of the window. No, my father wasn't strong, he wasn't unbreakable….no matter how strong he portrayed himself, he was fragile, he was delicate and he was indeed very breakable.

I sucked in a deep breath as the painful truth occured to….he was also perishable. The truth hurt and I wanted it to end, I just wanted it all to freaking END!

All my life I had taken it for granted that the pillar of strength, that my father was, would stay with me no matter what happened. But now it seemed like a foolish illusion. He could also go away, and that thought scared me.

Sometimes, you don't realise how beautiful your life was, until something happens which jolts you awake. The realisation is extremely painful. And it takes a mammoth effort to come to terms with the new circumstances, more so to adjust to them.

There were many questions that I wanted to ask, many things that I wanted to know. How did they find father, what state was he in? Were they able to take him to the hospital in time? What did he say as he writhed in pain, did he call out for me? Did he think of me when the throes of agony were ripping him apart?

Will he survive?

I felt another tear drop onto my lap as I thought how useless I was. What if this was the last time that I would see him? I couldn't bear the thought, it ripped me apart and made me want to howl in pain like a wounded animal.

My heart wept blood, I couldn't bear the pain. Breathing was difficult for me. There was so much I wanted to say but the fear within, silenced me, it robbed me of my ability to articulate my thoughts….so they stayed within me.

Torturing me, hurting me.

I wiped my tears discreetly, hoping Mr. Mishra didn't notice the droplets glistening on my cheeks. But even if he did notice, he never acknowledged it, and for that I was grateful to him.

"We're here." I heard his voice announce from far away, dragging me out of my dark thoughts.

As I felt the car screech to a halt, I looked up to see the huge building of the hospital before me. It's bright lights nearly blinded me as I stepped out of the car, feeling surprised that I my feet were able to handle my weight.

All I felt like right now was to fall down and cry my heart out.

But I knew I couldn't do that, so I straightened my back and stepped into the hospital behind Mr. Mishra. I was hyperaware of my surroundings as I walked towards the reception, the glaringly bright lights hurt my eyes and the pristine white floor made me want to mar it.

This appearance of perfection and cleanliness pissed me off. This place was a lie, it was cold….it held the pain and suffering of thousands behind those perfect walls.

I felt my fingernails digging into my palm as I clenched my fists. I didn't want to stay alone here, I couldn't bear the thoughts running in my head, I could feel my heartbeat fasten and sweat bead on my forehead as I watched Mr Mishra walk ahead of me.

I knew I couldn't bear this much longer, but I couldn't succumb to my fears. Not now, not yet.