Some things can never be explained. Million things rush through her mind everyday. She can be that sensitive wise girl as the world would expect her to be.She her group of people who love her, care for her, and all they would want is having her beside them. A perfect life. She is a good student, has satisfied parents, good at a handful of other things and with all this, a very good reputation . But is their something missing ? something she can never really tell anyone not even her own self.
Everyday seems to be a normal day. Now that would be the perspective of a normal working professional who is too practical to be a human being. Everyday seems to be normal day only because we have to make it the best day of our lives; this is the perspective of somebody who is little different from the rest and has made her own world of imagination, a world where she always diffuses off to, a world where their is nothing practical at all , where she always loves to be and not only that she also imagines her special ones there.
Coming back to reality all the time is saddening and makes her sick to the stomach. Why is it that she is so adrift when she is thinks of all the supposed tasks and duties she has to perform? the dos and don’ts, right and wrong, yes and no; all these regulars are what she always dreads. She makes mistakes, terrible ones, but where is the time to learn from them? Ages have passed with the same old cliche of how “one has to learn from ones mistakes”, is it really the case? instead those are “the” mistakes that make her vulnerable to criticism, isolation, comments, apparently helpful but stupid advises and what penalty? she is crashing under these very logs put on her by her so called loved ones.
Alas! you blind world. You think you know her; Her dreams would be laughing at you, her imaginations know who she is and what she is capable of, her heart though compromises with your stupid norms yet it does know what it really has to do. She might be a perfect looking, well mannered, good girl you expect her to be but the biggest irony about it is you are killing her from inside, she is rotting and slowly her private world along with her. The rebel inside her can never come out because you see it is suppressed by the “experienced” and “successful” people who guide her for a very bright future.
She is slowly drowning into the very same pages of the society where all her well wishers expect her to be. She leaves behind everything that was hers. Those include her opinion, her imagination, her ambitions, her fears and her strength. She has to be someone else now and she accepts it like every other girl. But her conscience still shouts inside her head, Who are you to tell her what she is? who are you to know what is the right thing to do? who are you to pull her out of her world? who are you to predict what she will become or what she is presently? Who are you to train her for life? Finally Who are you? Some things can never be explained.