What we all normalised was depression, when I shouted back at them. I take antidepressants too, they moaned. My cold hearted hands weren't enough to tell them, why I have dark circles even though I sleep more than I should. I am insomniac, my brother shouted. In the other one, I saw a love story failing. Shakespeare dying. A laughing Buddha at a time, now telling I am an Atheist. Like the graph of a bipolar personality, he was following Zenism while banging his head against the wall. My parents thought, he was prostrating to the God.
And I see my father laying all day.
Sometimes I think, he is penancing for his dead mother and my mother seemed fed up from this routine and she says, I can't walk anymore. I plead,"Don't leave us, we all need you, don't walk away from our lives".
Our lives, are tangled like my dream which my parents deceased.
Since the day, I killed my wings, I am half alive. A lie.
It pained like my yet unrequited love, telling me how she kissed the first love of her life and it was magical.
My ribs turned straight and I was walking parallel with her, it pained every inch of my body. My heart was bleeding unlike my dysmenorric cries.
Doctors say, we take female lives as normal as Pre Menstrual Syndrome or Pre Menstrual dysphoric disorder. What my father had was Guillain Barrē Syndrome, very rare, 1 in 100,000 each year.
