Fire and the Wind

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath. I knew this was going to happen someday. I was expecting this, I believed that I was actually ready for this. Then why am I unable to stop the tears? Why does this feel like a blow? Why does it hurt so much?
I leave my room. My sanctuary- a sanctuary that is mocking me now. The walls seemed to be provoking me, laughing at me and my naivete. I go out to the balcony. The chill wind slapped my face cruelly. But that was fine, absolutely. That way, I could just pretend that the tears staining my cheek were due to the cold, cold wind. But why do I cry? Wasn't I prepared for the hurt? Or did I think, even for a moment that things could have turned out any different? If I did, then I was a fool. And I deserve the hurt. The cold wind ceases to blow, and I am left with nothing but my lonely self for company. And the lonesome dog howling into the night.
I wake up in the morning and put on my mask. I talk to people, laugh at their jokes. They think I'm happy and that the sun is shining bright. Someone comes up to me and tells me a joke. I throw my head back and laugh. No one notices the lone tear that slides down my cheek.

Raindrops

A drop of rain. That's all it took.
Okay. A few drops.
Fine! A downpour!
But in the end, its the rain. That's all it took.
A week full of tension, work and some more work. A week full of disappointments, insecurities and mockery. Questions were left unanswered and so were emotions. Smiles played on lips even though the heart was far from the world. Passing faces in the crowd- some known, some unknown. All in shades of gray. Bleak and uninviting. The bright sun shone in the sky. Warm and cozy. To me, it felt like cold, uninviting fingers gripping my soul and draining the life out of it. The day was clear. I hated it. The skies were blue, the sun shone bright. I wished it would just go away.
And then it did.
First a few drops of rain. Then the heavens opened up and poured out their heart and their love. I turned my face towards the sky. The raindrops cleansed me.
Rain. That's all it took.

Loss of Innocence

It all started when I was watching Anne Frank Movie on Discovery. A passing comment that The Diary of Anne Frank was probably the most boring book ever actually got me thinking. I have always loved the book, though i never paused to think why it was so. The comment i received was that the book was mundane and boring. What was so special about a 13 year old Jewish girl writing from a rundown building? At least if she had written it from the camp, then it would have been a different issue. I knew that it wasn't so, that the diary was unique and beautiful. But the question was why was it so? There was only one way to find the answer- read the book.
So I read it- for the umpteenth time. I found what I was searching for- the answer was always there.
The Diary of A Young Girl isn't an account of the terror that was Nazi Germany. It is just a diary of a 13 year old girl named Anne Frank. Her mom called her Annelise Marie Frank when she got angry with her daughter. She had dreams of making it in Hollywood one day. She cared about her friends, her cat, schoolwork, her grades. She thought of boys, got excited when she got her first kiss. She always looked for the good in others. She had her own hopes, dreams and insecurities- she was human. And this is exactly what is needed to be portrayed. This shows exactly why the Nazis were the most cruel and inhuman tyrants. Not just because of the fact that they killed and destroyed lives- but what the lives represented. It was not the mere destruction of over 17 million people, but the destruction of millions of cherished dreams, ambitions, insecurities and fears. It was the destruction of the will to live. Like a cold wind that blows out the candle shining bright, the fire that each and every person held in their hearts and souls was blown out, till nothing remained but the ashes.
This is what Anne Frank represents. The millions of innocent children who lost their homes, hearths, loved ones and their own selves. The hope that they carried in their heart, even during those dark dark times that one day this will all be over and they'll go back home. The belief that even amidst all the cruelty and madness, beauty did exist in the world. The belief that someday, lilacs and freesias would still bloom in their backyard.
In Anne's own words- Go outside to the fields, enjoy nature and the sunshine, go out and try to recapture your happiness.Think of all the beauty that's still left in and around you and be happy!