Post thunderstorm

Later that evening, sitting in her strangely lit room with lights dim enough to just let the presence of someone be felt, she sat on her bed.

A strange sense of calmness after the emotionally exhausting situation had left her numb. Trying to reflect upon each and every cruel action she did to herself, she glanced at her bruised hands. Blood still seeping through the cotton dressing, the bandage turned wine red due to the dried blood patches, was a site enough to feel awfully pity. But it wasn't just the wound that hurt. If you could meet her in this present state, you would realise that the tears which have dried from her eyes could still be felt rolling down her pale pink cheeks. The insignificant marks of the tears enchanted their story, loud enough for the deaf to hear her heart wrenching plight.

From the look of it, you could easily infer how helpless she would have felt.

Suddenly, after being immersed in deep messed up thoughts, she got up and walked towards the cupboard. As soon as she opened the doors of the huge wooden structure, it lit up the entire room. A well built marvellously lit cupboard opened up to the room which seeked light. Sliding her wounded hand into the top right drawer she slowly slid out an old worn out diary.

"They say, happiness is the greatest of all luxuries. Ironically, an extravagant cupboard was capable enough to reveal the dark truths for many lives.", she murmured to herself.

Taking the shattered diary in her hand she sat down again, this time she had acquired a strange look of calmness and a posture as though meditating.

The first page read "Date: 12th day of May 2010, When it all began..."

The diary wasn't an ancient one, yet the pages gave off an aura of the authenticity of the bygone. The crimson red shade of the diary depicted a sense of fierceness, contrary to it's owner's state.

The process of turning a page, going through it for minute 3-4 seconds and then moving onto the other one continued, until, she finally took a longer pause. The 11th page had earned the privilege to look at the flawless pale face for extra 5 seconds.

While she read, an uninvited admirer stood at a distance. Calmly looking at the serene beauty. Her hair tied up in a loose bun and random caramel brown strands brushing off her cheeks. These strands were lucky enough to get undone during the panic attack after which they served their duty of enhancing the view of her serene face, he thought to himself.

It wasn't long enough that he had been there, when the admired one caught the admirer. In a single cold glance she could express her disinterest in being the sight of admiration.

Upon being confronted, he quietly left after the realisation of being presented as an abstruction in the thought processes of someone he won't dare bother.

As he left, she read the 11th page again, it said, "We all are fighting our own demons. We all are meant to go through our fair share of distress, disagreement, suppression and anxiety. We all fall at some points in our lives. The least we can do is ...."

A sudden knock at the door disturbed her meditation.

"What is that you read with such fierce concentration?", said Krish's curious voice.

She calmly set the diary to rest back in the cupboard and replied, " The light showers which settle the dust after a thunderstorm."

Krish was left in a state of utter confusion and curiousity.

"..and to whom does it belong to?"

"To the reason for everything."