When reality is better than fiction

There was a time when mom actually yelled at me everytime I used to start a new book. I always had a book in my hand and couple of those Papa got from the Naval Central Library. At that time I could read almost anything and at a good speed losing myself in the world.
The fiction world seemed surreal and I learnt a lot from the characters, the situations and above all the words craftily spun into mystic sentences by the authors.

2007 – that year changed me completely and most of you almost know by now why as most of my posts are related to that one incidence. Why my posts have a similar underlying theme is because on 10 October 2007 this blog was started as an outlet for all the congested emotions that were building up in my heart like a bacteria for too long. This blog was a vent for them. That’s why I chose to wrote under the pseudonym – Fruity – a tribute to salute the effervesence and the undying spirit of a bubbly girl called Mehak who did die in 2007.

During 2006, I had started reading three books (I was in a habit to read multiple books simulataneously) – Life of Pi, Shantaram and The Fountainhead. I had borrowed these from my cousin and friends. While I was packing my stuff before making a big move to New Zealand, I bought the copies of the books so that I could read these.

Circa 2009, the books were still wrapped in their covers, eating dust in the tall boy while I concentrated on writing about my in built emotions. I felt like a prisoner of depression for three years. I felt sad, alone and overall pissed off at these books which most of the times had happy endings. The real characters of people, the real life situations and above all the words craftily said by these people took precedence and nipped my heart several times.

This was the time when reality started looking better than fiction and educated me a lot too.

Its been three years, I have met people who have lost their parents when they were kids or have not even seen their parents. I have met people who have been alone fighting through a disease. I have met people who don’t have fancy things as I do.
I have consoled other people a million times, given them hope and let them smile when I smiled. I know for some people my smile is the reason for their smile. I have written on other blog posts about my own experience and how god is always there. I read the nice little review by her too that made me reminisce about the old times. Trust me there is no better therapy then self therapy.

I have started to forgive myself, I have started to forgive him for ditching that night and not waiting till morning, I have forgiven myself for letting that effervescent girl die a silent death.

11 March 2010, precisely 4 days post the third death anniversary, I picked the book, cleaned the dust using my sleeve and took off the cover and devoured it to let the young girl feed on the characters and words. The Fountainhead is back!

Its almost time when I have outcomed the dark insipid space and taken over to renew the lease of this life! I am going to nurture every bit of it. I am going to do things that I stopped three years ago. I am going to think about me. I am going to read the fiction to face the harsh reality with a new outlook and new take on life! I have finally succeeded to beat the depression. I am a winner in my own right.