I don’t remember the exact time, when I developed this habit, which has become more of an obsession now. It seems as if I lend my hands to help this poor soul and this in turn had work against me, it transformed into a monster and started feeding on my body.
And now I am standing in front of my washroom, constantly washing my hands (habit), the smell of the soap is all around in the atmosphere, still I am not satisfied. It seems as if I want to get rid of those lines in my hands, which people call as the lines of fate, destiny, life etc etc.
I want my soap to help me get rid of those lines, which are more of a kind of burden to me. As these lines continously remind me of the years left behind, and about the years to come, and I seriously don’t want such things to cling with my body, that give even a slightest sense of dominance. I don’t. I won’t. I can’t.
Yes, this is the way I am! Every moment every second of my life. Taking hold of my life as I am the master of my soul.
The bulk of foam has formed in between this relentless motion of my hands. I am unaware of my existence as I am totally focused in washing away the dirt from my mind. Those peels of skin have started coming out, but still I am persistent in my deadly endeavour. Although, this task seems less deadly, than the deadly sins which these hands has committed, in the past, by showering help to those treacherous parasites who degrade you, giving you those imperishable wounds for life. And to add more salt into my wounds are these lines which always reminds me of my mistakes.
Yes, all that is left behind that we can’t change, the things for which we make ourselves responsible for, all the good deeds that were no good for us, all the bad deeds that were never good for anybody else, all those things that we tried to hold together, but couldn’t and also those things which we never tried holding together and instead relied on letting them go. These all things are defined by one single word called mistakes.
Everybody knows that those things couldn’t be changed. And I don’t want the possibilities and impossibilities of those things to play with me again, by making me believe that everything will get better. No, nothing could change those past events. I don’t want the stains of my past in my hands any more nor I want to rely on my future anymore. I am washing my hands till nothing remains.
No, I was.
No, I will?
Only, I am! This time.
p.s. I request people to bear with my queer experience. Yes, this is my post, a bit incomplete like me and I always want it to be that way only.
What do feel about this post? Do let me know.